A/N: Sorry this took so long, but this chapter was really difficult for me to write, because it just felt dull to me. I hope you enjoy, and please leave your reviews! Let me know what you'd like to see coming up!
Anomaly
Chapter 13
The next morning, Melanie trudged sleepily down to breakfast and found that she had dived headfirst into a heavy discussion about the previous night's events. Almost none of the Gryffindors had slept a wink the night before; something in the room had fueled them with what had then seemed like unlimited energy, but now had turned into cranky juice. Melanie had spent two hours beating the grogginess out of her in the bathroom, but still felt like sleep was the best thing in the world.
"Hey, Mel," Al yawned.
"Don't call me 'Mel,'" she replied, returning the yawn. "What's going on?"
"Eden's explaining something to us." He patted the seat next to him, and Melanie sat down on the hard bench, wishing more than anything that there was a soft, plushy cushion underneath her bottom.
"There are a bunch of spells that could have potentially been used," Eden Bones was saying, gesturing to a sheet of parchment in the middle of the table. "Now, I've organized them into groups by level. Combined, they will end up with the full corpse."
"When did you do this?" said Roxanne, rubbing her eyes.
Eden, who looked quite like a fairy princess, much to everyone's envy, smiled. "Last night, while the boys were talking about how to catch who did it."
"Damn," said Myra.
"I've said it before, but I'll say it again, forever and ever," said Xander. "You're amazing."
"Ew."
"God, ew."
"That's disgusting."
"Keep that to yourself."
"Anyway," said Eden, laughing, "we just need to figure out Spook's—er, I mean—all the suspects' magical abilities."
"How are we gonna do that?" said Fred.
Eden looked reluctant to answer him.
"Well?"
"I…I don't like it," she said, hesitantly, "but you-you've got to duel them."
Each of the boys adopted wickedly mischievous expressions.
"Wow," said Myra, rolling her eyes.
"How's that gonna help?" asked Rose.
"I think they're just gonna duel them to see if they use all easy-way-out spells, all moderate spells, start easy and end hard or vice-versa. You know, all the combinations. And then, they'll match it with Eden's outline," said Melanie. Everyone stared at her, awed.
"Whoa," murmured Al.
"What?" said Melanie, looking from face to face, befuddled.
"I just asked a question and you answered it," said Rose. "That's new."
"It really is," said Noah, who had finally come down to breakfast.
"Hey! Look who it is!" cried Fred, jumping up from his seat to clap his friend on the back.
"Good morning," teased Roxanne, glancing at her watch, which read 12:30. "Or should I say 'afternoon?'"
"Slept in, did we?" said Melanie.
"Don't worry about it, Noah," James yawned, stretching openly. "We all did."
"Speaking of which, where were you?" demanded Fred.
"What do you mean?" Noah looked thoroughly confused.
"You didn't come up last night, mate," said Xander.
"Oh, er, by the time I got back to the Tower, everyone had already gone to bed," he answered, shrugging. Everyone exchanged looks as he took a seat and began stuffing his face with sausage links.
"Noah, we didn't sleep in the Tower last night," said Melanie.
"What?" said Noah, suddenly uncomfortable.
"We stayed in the Room of Requirement," said James.
"Yeah, McGonagall didn't let us stay in the Tower," Al added. "Where were you?"
Watching him with great interest, the entire group waited for him to answer. The so-called cocky boy opened and closed his mouth awkwardly several times, but was rescued by the approach of handsome blonde boy.
"Hey! It's Scorpius!" said Noah loudly. "What's up, mate?"
"Oh, no, you don't," said Melanie. "What were you doing all night?"
"No, no, no!" Noah cried hurriedly. "Scorpius, what brings you here?"
"Er, if this is a bad time, I can come back," he said in a surprisingly soft voice.
"No! It's not a bad time!" Noah assured him.
"It's not a bad time, Scorpius," said Al, in a much calmer tone that Noah could have ever achieved at that moment. "Noah here was just telling us where he was all of last night."
"No, I wasn't!" Noah insisted. "Scorpius was telling us what he's been up to."
Rose let out a sigh. "All right, what are you doing here, Scorpius?"
"Oh, I just came here because I heard about the creepy corpse thing," he said.
Melanie and Rose shuddered almost in unison.
"Why would you remind us of that?" the redhead whined, punching him lightly in the arm.
"Were you the ones who saw it?" he asked, looking back and forth between them.
"Yeah." Rose nodded. "But can we please, please talk about something else?"
"Yes, that'd be great," said Melanie. "I'm Melanie, by the way."
"Oh, I know," said Scorpius.
Wholly exasperated, she asked, "Does all of Hogwarts know about the Muggle-turned-witch?"
"And all of the wizarding world," Scorpius answered.
They all looked at him, confused.
"What?" said Melanie.
"Haven't you seen the Daily Prophet today?" he said.
"What are you talking about?" asked Al. "What does Melanie have to do with the Daily Prophet?"
Roxanne pulled a copy of the newspaper out from under her glass of orange juice. As she straightened it out, they all saw the headline that read: MUGGLES KEPT IN THE DARK FOR TOO LONG.
"Apparently," she said, scanning the article, "some wizard has been holding rallies encouraging Muggle integration into wizarding society. He references you, Melanie." They all turned their eyes on her.
Noah cheered. "Looks like she's famous!"
"She already kinda was," Al pointed out.
"Shut up," Melanie whined.
"No, no," Eden interrupted, leaning over Roxanne's shoulder to look at the article. "This is not good."
"What do you mean?" Xander asked.
"Well, it looks like this wizard's using Melanie's incident as a really, really faulty support for his 'cause,'" Roxanne explained.
"I hope the Ministry's doing something about this," said Eden.
"So this isn't about me?" said Melanie, with a hopeful smile.
"It's not about you, but if someone doesn't step in and put this person in his place, it could get crazy," Eden stated simply.
"They can't, Eden," said Al. "If he's just organizing rallies, he's not technically causing any harm."
"Rallies have the potential to cause harm, Al," she insisted. "People who lead them in this way have a ridiculously honed ability to manipulate and sway crowds—or, as they should be called, mobs—into doing whatever the one person likes. It's like a mini-dictatorship."
"Eden, it's probably not an issue," James assured her. "Just calm down."
"Yeah, let's talk about something else. Something that doesn't get Most-Peaceful-Girl-Ever's knickers in a twist," Myra teased.
"Yeah, like how about this," Scorpius interjected. He looked incredibly nervous, and he was not making eye contact with anybody at the table. "Rose, will you go the Winter Ball with me?"
Shocked silence. Then—
"YES!"
"So, I take it she likes him?"
"Oh, she likes him. She very, very likes him," said Al, grinning. "Uncle Ron's not gonna be too happy about this."
"Why not?"
Mason George, who was walking to Transfiguration with them, laughed. "Mr. Weasley hates Scorpius's dad, Draco Malfoy. He mentions it every time Rose brings Scorpius up."
"Rose brings him up?" said Melanie. "How come if she likes him so much, I never knew about him?"
"Well, you see," Al began, his smile broadening, "Rose doesn't know she likes Scorpius."
With a scoff, Melanie asked, "How could she not know? That's, like, impossible."
"You didn't know whether you liked Noah or not," Mason pointed out.
"I'm not talking about me," Melanie insisted. "I'm talking about Rose. We all saw her face after he asked her to go to the Winter Ball. She was pissing her pants, she was so excited."
"So?"
"So, I'm pretty sure Rose can tell whether or not she pisses her pants when a boy asks her out," said Melanie, smirking.
"You clearly haven't spent enough time around Rose," said Al. "When it comes to Scorpius, she's really sad."
"She said she'd be into going with you, you know," she said to Mason.
"Me?" he said incredulously. "What?"
"Yeah, I said that, too," she replied, shrugging. "But she seemed pretty genuine about it. That's why I was like 'what the hell' about earlier."
"No." Al shook his head. "I've been expecting things to happen between Rose and Scorpius, but no one really talks about it because they've never had anything more than friendship before."
"So, why'd you expect it?" Mason asked.
"I dunno. It was just something I…sensed, I suppose."
"You're such a girl," Melanie snickered.
The black-haired boy looked outraged. "I'm not a girl!"
"It's okay," she said, giggling. "Girls like boys who are girls."
"Wha…that-that doesn't make any sense!" he cried as they entered the Transfiguration room. In a thick swarm, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw second years hurried out of it. Al grabbed the arm of a small, red-haired (no surprises there) girl, who Melanie recognized as Lily Potter.
"Hey!" she protested, glowering at her brother.
"Lily," said Al in a warning tone, "have you heard?"
Smiling smugly, Lily Potter responded, "Heard what?" The innocence in her voice could not be rivaled even by angels singing at a baby's birth.
"Lily Luna," he said, glaring. "Don't write Dad about it."
"About what, Albus?" she said, her smile growing.
"You know what I'm talking about."
"Al, come on," sighed Mason. "Lily, please don't write to your dad about Rose and Scorpius. You know it's best if Mr. Weasley hears it from Rose herself, rather than from Mr. Potter."
For a second, Lily looked back and forth between Al and Mason, and then shrugged, said, "Okay," cheerily, and happily made her way in the other direction.
"How the hell did you do that?" Al moaned enviously.
"She probably likes me," Mason teased, receiving a death glare from Al.
"Go near my baby sister and I will personally gouge your eyes out with the end of your own wand," he threatened.
"Let's not have that violent talk in the classroom," Professor Scroll chastised smilingly as Mason laughed. "Now, fourth year Gryffindors! Now that I have you here, let me tell you that we are closer to discovering who placed the fake body in the common room last night."
The entire classroom, Gryffindors and Ravenclaws alike, cheered exuberantly.
"How is that?" someone called.
"Well, we have confirmed the spells used to create the body," she explained.
"Are you okay, Professor?" Rose asked. "You were so queasy last night."
Tenderly, Professor Scroll smiled at Rose and said, "Thanks for your concern, Rose. I'm feeling much better. It was just an, ah, 'in the moment' thing, and Madam Daisy sent me off right away." Nobody noticed her jaw twitch as she said the words, 'in the moment.'
"Are you gonna tell us what the spells were?" Melanie said.
"No, we are not," said Professor Scroll sharply. "They were very unsafe spells to use—not meant for fourth years to try."
"What do you mean, 'unsafe?' said Al slowly.
"They were the kinds of spells that can harm the witch or wizard if not done properly," she explained. "But enough of that! Let's get back to Transfiguration."
The group had huddled together again, this time in the common room before dinner. Melanie, Al, and Rose were all very excited to explain what they had learned in Transfiguration.
"So they know what spells were used?" asked James eagerly. "What were they?"
"Professor Scroll wouldn't tell us," Melanie replied, shaking her head and receiving many disappointed stares. "Hey, no! That's not all!"
"It's okay, Melanie," Noah said glumly. "We'll figure it out."
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure Professor Scroll would've written it down somewhere right?" said Fred. "In some notes?"
"Yeah!" said James, looking slightly more enthusiastic. "Who's up for breaking into her office?"
"Wait!" Melanie cried, holding her hands up. "That wasn't all!"
"You three really need to calm down," Rose advised.
She realized too late that she probably should not have spoken; the three boys turned their wickedly mischievous grins toward her.
"Oh, do we?" said James, his eyes twinkling.
"You know, I'd say the same thing to you, Rose," said Noah.
"Er…what do you mean?" she said nervously.
"Oh, you know," teased James.
"You should calm down before you and Scorpius get all—"
"FRED WEASLEY, YOU SHUT UP!" she howled, punching his arm quite forcefully ("Ow!").
"Come on, Rose," James laughed, "you know we're just waiting for—"
"Shut up, James," said Myra, snickering. "Let them tell us about the spells."
"Myra, Rose and Scorpius together are way more interesting at the moment," Noah sniggered.
"Just let it go," said Al. "She's gonna get hell from Uncle Ron, anyway."
Rose blanched at this thought; she'd been trying not to think about how her father would react to this all day. It was really too much to hope that he'd be understanding. Her father was a hot-headed, proud, stubborn Gryffindor, so this hope was a little far-fetched.
"Rose? Rose?" Al was saying, waving his hand in front of her face. She snapped back to the real world.
"What?"
"I just said, 'have you told Hugo not to write about it?'" said Al.
"What do you mean?" she said, nonplussed.
Al, James, Fred, and Roxanne all groaned loudly.
"You didn't tell him?" said James incredulously. "The first thing I did was tell Lily not to write to Mum and Dad!"
"So did I," Al said.
"No, you didn't," James contradicted him.
"What? What do you mean?"
"You told Lily not to write to Dad," said James. "When I told her not to write to either of them, she was in the middle of a letter to Mum."
Rose gasped. "What? Why would she do that? What did I ever do to her?"
"She's a little sister, Rose," said Melanie. "They like to do that."
"And she tells Mum and Dad everything," Al added. "I should've known she'd do that."
"You better go tell Hugo right now," Roxanne warned.
"Unless he's already sent Uncle Ron the letter," Fred suggested.
"No," Rose whimpered, but before she could scamper to her brother's dormitory, the freckly, red-haired Hugo Weasley came laughing down the stairs.
"Hi, Hugo," said Roxanne as he approached them. "How are you?" She was one of the only older family members who could fully get through to Hugo.
"Hi, Roxy!" he said cheerily. "I'm good. Just finished a letter to Dad."
Inconspicuously, Rose gulped. "Did you?" she said. "What'd you tell them about?"
Clearly oblivious to what Rose was implying, Hugo merely shrugged. "I dunno. Stuff."
"Hugo, did you tell Dad about me and Scorpius?" Rose demanded.
"Oh! Oh, yeah, I did," he said.
"Oh, Merlin," Rose squeaked.
"Did you send the letter, Hugo?" asked Roxanne.
"Uh, of course? Why would I write a letter but not send one?" he said. He had no idea why everyone was panicking about a simple letter.
"Will it really be that bad?" Melanie said. Everyone seemed to be severely dreading the idea of Rose's father discovering his daughter's more-than-friendship with Scorpius Malfoy to an extent that seemed almost comical to her.
"Oh, it will be bad," Rose muttered. "I'm gonna go and-and just…just be alone."
They watched as she made her way up to the girls' dormitory.
"Poor thing," said Eden, looking after her. "I should go up with her."
"No, Eden, we'll need you," said Melanie. "We were talking about the spells remember?"
The blonde girl looked reluctant to stay, but she turned her eyes to Melanie nevertheless.
"Professor Scroll told us that the spells would 'harm the witch or wizard if not performed correctly,' and that they were 'not for fourth years to try,'" said Melanie.
"Does that help at all?" said Al hopefully.
Eden pulled out her outline and pored over it with Xander and James.
"I think I know of some spells that can do that," James murmured to himself.
"It'll help with narrowing down, that's for sure," said Xander.
"Yeah, almost ten of these are automatically not the ones," said James. "Did she say if the spells would all be harmful, or just some of them?"
"She didn't say," said Al, shaking her head. "She just said that they weren't for fourth years to try. But she never said the words 'some of them.'"
"All right, well that's good," said Eden. "We can probably figure out, like five or six combinations, yeah?"
The boys nodded.
"So when do we duel Spook?" said Noah eagerly.
James's face darkened. "You don't, Noah. Spook is mine."
"I'd advise against that, James," said Al.
"And why the hell would you do that?" James demanded.
"It's pretty obvious," Melanie interjected. "He picked on your sister. You're gonna want to hurt him."
"They're right, James," Myra sighed. "I know how you want to get back at him, but we need someone who's gonna go easy and focus on Spook's style of doing magic."
"I'm going to duel Spook," said James firmly.
"James, you really shouldn't," said Melanie.
"What do you know?" he barked, turning to her. "You haven't even known us a few seconds, Melanie. Just get the hell out of our family."
"James," Myra chastised, shocked.
"No, it's fine," said Melanie. She opened her mouth to say she understood his frustration, that it made perfect sense that he would attack whoever got in his way, but the breath never made it out of her lungs.
The last thing she saw before she felt her back hit the floor was the end of James's wand.
Groggily, Melanie opened her eyes to see a scene that definitely was not taking place in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing: It was a large room, and several orderlies were scrambling about, tending to patients who occupied every single bed that lined the wall. As she struggled to keep her thousand-ton eyelids open, she realized that the some of the people in the beds were much older or much younger than she was. One girl could not have been any older than five years.
"Oh, you're awake!" said a warm, but crisp-sounding voice by her head. She tried to look around, but her muscles felt like baby elephants, and, try as she might, she could not lift them.
Twitching her fingers, Melanie became aware of various tubes attached to her arm and a dull panic spread through her; the wooziness was strongly overpowered the alarm.
"Wasgoinon?" she mumbled, hoping the crisp voice hadn't gone away.
"Darling, you really should rest," it said. Melanie vaguely registered the soft pillows under her head being fluffed and she felt somewhat irritated. She didn't want motherly, caring advice; she wanted to know where the hell she was and why she was there.
"Don' wanna…" she said, trying to locate the woman with the voice.
"Go to sleep, dear," she repeated more firmly, sounding distant…
The sound of faint crying was the first Melanie heard when she awoke. No longer were there any tubes in her body (as far as she could tell), and she felt properly awake when she opened her eyes, though she quickly had to shut them again due to the blinding sunlight peering into the room. Looking around, she noticed that the room had changed: It was much tinier, she was no longer accompanied by fifteen or so other people, and her mother was sitting in the corner, gripping some man's hand and crying.
"Mum?" she said, slightly hoarsely.
"Melanie!" Mrs. Daniels gasped, rushing forward to draw her daughter into a lung-crushing hug. "Oh, God, Melanie, they called me at home and I didn't know…I didn't know what had happened! No one did! This-this hospital's been working on you for a week, and I've been-been p-panicking!" she sobbed.
"All-all right, Mum," Melanie grunted, patting her mother's back awkwardly.
"Sharona, you should probably let her breathe," the man said, smiling as he gently pulled Mrs. Daniels away from a groaning Melanie.
Who was this man? As Melanie gave the man a very meticulous once-over, she wasn't sure if she was glaring at him, but she absolutely did not care. The black, slightly patched-up robes he donned were hanging open to reveal a bright yellow sweater and faded blue jeans. His hair was a very light brown color, and he had tiny lines around his face that were similar to her mother's, and his smile was actually quite friendly. But the only thing Melanie could focus on was how his fingers were resting on her mother's shoulders. She realized that she should probably wonder and ask where she was and what had brought her here and why, but the man had been touching her mother for far too long, and that question simply had to be pursued.
"Er…hello?" she said to the man, her tone slightly accusing.
"Oh, God," Mrs. Daniels mumbled. "I'm sorry, Melanie…I forgot to introduce Dennis!"
"Dennis Creevey," he said, extending his hand for her to shake.
Without dropping (what she hoped was) her piercing gaze, Melanie took his hand and said, "So you're a wizard?"
"Yeah," he said, nodding enthusiastically. "But I'm Muggle-born, like you. Well, not exactly like you, but…"
"Yes, he lives in my flat building, Melanie," said her mother, in an almost giggly way. "It's so nice to have someone who's comfortable with our—er, Muggle—culture in Hogsmeade!"
Before Melanie could offer a comment, a dumpy woman walked briskly into the room and, upon seeing Melanie awake and well, turned to Mrs. Daniels and Dennis Creevey.
"You should have called me immediately when you saw that she was functioning!" she chastised.
They murmured their apologies quietly, and the woman looked at Melanie with the kindness of a stern but wacky teacher.
"Melanie, dear, I'm your Healer!" she said, and Melanie recognized the warm, crisp voice from what felt like a dream.
"I know you," she said hesitantly.
"Yes! I'm sure you do, seeing as you woke up very, very briefly three days ago," the Healer replied, moving around to fluff Melanie's pillows. "My name is Healer Potts, and I've been watching you with my intern for quite a while. You were well, however, last night, and we were able to take you off of the medications. You should be able to leave tonight."
"We can take her home?" Mrs. Daniels asked hopefully. Melanie cringed mentally at her use of the word 'we.'
"Yes, you may. I'd advise that she not return to school until the Christmas vacation is over," Healer Potts told her.
"What? No!" cried Melanie. "I've got to go to school! I've got classes and homework and my friends and—"
"Classes and homework and friends can all wait," said Healer Potts resolutely.
"But the Winter Ball!" she tried feebly. She didn't really want to go to the Winter Ball, but she felt that appealing to this Healer's teenage girl side might persuade her to allow Melanie to return to school.
Clearly, it had no effect, as Healer Potts merely chuckled. "Melanie, dear, the Hogwarts Winter Ball has already happened. I'm sorry, but there's only a week before your holiday."
Shocked upon hearing how long she'd been a useless piece of lettuce, Melanie opened and closed her mouth several times, before crumbling back onto her bed with a pathetic whimper. "Why? What the hell happened to me?"
"It had to do with the wizard blood," said Mrs. Daniels. "It started to react badly with your actual blood. Only because Healer Potts had some knowledge of our medical world you were able to get back to normal at all, love."
Melanie bolted upright. "There's something wrong with my wizard blood?" she squeaked. "Does-does this mean I'm not gonna be a witch anymore?"
"No, no, dear," Healer Potts assured her. "You just have to return for monthly visits so that we can stabilize your blood levels."
Sighing, she said, "Thank God. All right. But speaking of that, where am I?"
"This is St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries," Dennis Creevey replied. Melanie nodded; she'd read about it briefly while researching the wizarding world.
"And I've been here for, like, a week and a half?" she said, doing quick calculations in her head.
"Yes, dear," Healer Potts affirmed. "It took less than a day to figure out what happened, about three days to put it right, and a week to stabilize."
Melanie groaned loudly, throwing her arms up in the air in defeat. "I can't believe I made such a big deal."
"You didn't do anything, Melanie," her mother said firmly, moving away from Dennis Creevey to grip her hand.
"She's right about it being a big deal though," Dennis muttered quietly to the Healer. Melanie glared daggers at him, but he didn't notice. "We should get her out of here as soon as possible. We don't want the public knowing about this issue."
"The public?" Melanie repeated incredulously. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm sorry, Melanie, but your whole story was in the newspapers for at least two months after the incident happened," said Dennis. "I know you and your mother don't need any more publicity."
"What are you supposed to do about it?" she challenged him, almost rudely. Mrs. Daniels gave her a surprised and slightly reproachful look, but otherwise did not respond to her daughter's uncouth manners.
Dennis either did not notice her tone or chose to ignore it, responding, "My brother works as a photographer for The Daily Prophet, and he's held in pretty high esteem. I've told him to try and steer the 'digging' type of journalists in directions away from you or St. Mungo's."
"Thanks, Dennis," said Mrs. Daniels, smiling appreciatively at him.
"Well, unfortunately, we can't release her until she's been observed awake for twelve hours," said Healer Potts.
"That's fine, ma'am," he said. "But I've got to get to work, Sharona. D'you want to stay here with Melanie?"
Mrs. Daniels looked from Dennis to her daughter and smiled. "Of course I do."
"Er, no, Mum, that's okay," Melanie said quickly. "You probably have stuff to do."
"No, no!" Mrs. Daniels assured her, though her eyes betrayed a slight hint of worry.
"You did have things to do, didn't you?" Melanie accused her.
"Well…I had an appointment with Mr. Evengle later this afternoon…" She trailed off.
"Go to your appointment, Mum," Melanie laughed. "I'm sure if it's with Evengle it's pretty damn important. I'll be fine. You were probably sitting here for the past week and a half anyway, so you've definitely made up for the twelve hours you'll miss today."
With a sigh, Mrs. Daniels leaned forward and kissed Melanie's forehead. "What would I do without such a lovely, thoughtful daughter?" she wondered, smiling at her.
"You'd perish," she teased.
Giggling, her mother smacked her shoulder gently. "Oh, you," she said. "Are you sure you'll be fine on your own?"
"I'll be fine, Mum," said Melanie, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure there's plenty to do in the hospital."
"All right…" Mrs. Daniels still looked slightly uncertain, but nevertheless took Dennis Creevey's hand and exited the room with a final wave over her shoulder to Melanie.
For the rest of the day, Melanie was looked after by a young-looking intern with pale, almost glowing blonde hair, and a freckly complexion by the name of Victoire.
"It's a pretty name, you know," said Melanie as Victoire did the hourly checkup of her vitals.
"Thank you," she said. "It means 'victory.' I was born two years after we won the war, and I guess my parents just really wanted me to be named for the war."
Knowingly, Melanie nodded. "I've seen that in a bunch of my friends at Hogwarts."
At this, Victoire giggled very much like a teenage girl. "Your friends must be my cousins," she explained.
"Your cousins?"
"Yes, the Potters," she said, grinning broadly.
Shocked, Melanie abruptly sat upright. "Are you serious? The Royal Group are your cousins?"
"The what?"
"Oh, yeah, sorry," said Melanie sheepishly. "It's what I've been calling them, the Royal group. Because they seem to kinda, I dunno, rule over the rest of the students."
Greatly amused, Victoire let out a booming laugh that could only be inherited from the Weasleys. "Oh, goodness, you're probably right," she said, with an air of fondness in her tone. "I was in that group once. Merlin, it's been a while."
"Doesn't surprise me. How long ago was that?" asked Melanie.
"Oh, it was three years ago that I graduated," said Victoire wistfully. "Those were the best days of my life. Your 'Royal Group' wasn't so big then, though."
"Really?"
"Yeah, no, it was just like any other clique, except slightly more popular than the others. A few people are still there, though, like Fred and Noah and Xander. The others were pretty young when we started, and they didn't really hang out with us that much. I was there when it was first formed, you know," she said proudly.
Melanie snorted, and said, "It's weird to think about that. I'd imagine it to always be there."
Victoire laughed again, but a softer one this time. "I definitely know what you mean, but it kind of was always there. At least for me."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, we always spend, like, every moment together, since we were kids. So, at Hogwarts, all that was different was that there were more people."
Nodding thoughtfully, Melanie said, "That sounds really awesome."
"It was," she said, smiling.
"Miss Weasley!" cried Healer Potts as she bustled into the room. "There is no need to chatter with the patients for this long! Other patients need your care, too, you know. Bragging about your engagement, again?"
Blushing furiously, Victoire murmured her apologies, smiled and waved good-bye sheepishly to Melanie, and left the room.
Melanie absolutely could not wait to meet the entire Weasley family during Christmas.
A/N: A loot of things happened in this chapter! The Spook issue is smack in the middle of being resolved, but what's this about a Muggle-Wizard Interaction activist? Will this be the last time Melanie's blood has a bad reaction? What about Scorpius and Rose? Myra and James? Noah's unexplained disappearance? I can't wait for the Christmas chapters, they're going to my favorite to write! I hope you enjoyed this, and please leave your feedback.
~Maya
