"What Miss McKinnon hasn't told you, Miss Black, is that she is going to become the newest student…of Hogwarts."

The shock of what McGonagall had just dropped on me takes a few moments to sink in, but when it finally hits me, I nearly fall out of my chair. "Wh-what? She's – Hogwarts – what?!

"One question at a time, Miss Black," McGonagall orders. "And take a deep breath."

I nod, breathe in through my nose, and settle on a question to ask. "So, Rosie is...or was...a student at Beauxbatons, right?"

"Yes," McGonagall confirms. "She started there as a child and has gone there for the past four years."

"Okay...and now she's not anymore? She's just...at Hogwarts now?"

"Transferring, to be exact," the professor corrects. "I expect that the final proceedings will be finished within the next week, at the most."

I nod, worrying my lips between my teeth. "And...why?"

"Why?" McGonagall repeats.

"Yeah, why is she transferring?" I clarify. "Why now? And – not that I'm not happy to have her – but why at all?"

McGonagall nods, looking thoughtful. "Insightful questions, Miss Black. The 'why now' is simply a matter of timing. You must understand that magical schools do not communicate on a frequent basis – we exist on our own and, generally speaking, leave our neighbors to their business. When Madame Maxime heard that the Triwizard Tournament was occurring again, after so long, she contacted Professor Dumbledore concerning the transfer. The two headmasters agreed that Ms. McKinnon would come with the Beauxbatons delegation, and simply remain at Hogwarts when it came time for the rest of the students to return to France."

"She was never going to partake in the Tournament, was she?" I ask quietly. Inside my head, a different realization was coming to light: Beauxbatons couldn't wait to get rid of her. They jumped at the first chance to get rid of the 'devil child'. They threw her away like a piece of trash.

"-lack? Miss Black!" I jump at the sound of the professor's voice and hesitantly look up to see McGonagall giving me a severely irritated look. "Were you listening to anything I just said, Miss Black?"

"Um..."

McGonagall's nostrils flare as she glares at me over the rims of her glasses. "Next time you ask a question, do be sure to pay attention to the answer, Miss Black."

"Yes, professor," I sigh.

"As I was saying," McGonagall continues, "No, Ms. McKinnon was never going to be in the Tournament, as she is only fourteen. The age limit is seventeen and not a day younger, as I'm sure you remember." McGonagall gives me a significant look, and I have to fight to keep the smirk off my face.

McGonagall suddenly heaves a heavy sigh and pushes up from her chair, walking over to the window and staring out of it – but I don't think she was looking at the grounds.

"The general 'why' is a harder question, as Ms. McKinnon's story is not mine to tell, but this much I can tell you: Ms. McKinnon is not of French descent, as I am sure you've guessed. Her family is originally Scottish, I believe. I taught her mother here at Hogwarts – Marlene was in the same year as your father and his...'Marauders.'" McGonagall pauses here, and I can see her shudder halfway across the room. "Unfortunately, I lost track of Marlene after the war – no one knew just what happened to her, but I can only assume she ended up in France."

"Professor," I interrupt, "if Rosie was never supposed to be in France, then how did she end up there?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, Miss Black," McGonagall sighs and returns to her desk. "Now, returning to the original topic of your little altercation earlier. While I now understand your reasoning, I'm afraid I still have to issue your punishment. Report to Madam Pomfrey directly after dinner."

I nod, accepting my punishment without complaint – I was no stranger to detentions, and really, I did deserve it this time. At least it wasn't with Filch or in the Forbidden Forest again.

I make my way towards the door, pausing when McGonagall calls my name again. "Yes?"

"I believe Ms. McKinnon can currently be found in the Hospital Wing. You have a half-hour before dinner – I would go pay her a visit if I were you."

Forcing down the immediate wave of panic that had crashed over me upon hearing 'Rosie' and 'Hospital Wing' in the same sentence, I threw a smile over my shoulder. "I will, Professor. And thank you."

McGonagall returns my smile with a small, but equally warm, one. "Have a good day, Miss Black. And do not let me hear of you fighting again – the consequences will not be as lenient next time."

I nod and hurry out of the classroom, tearing through the near-empty corridors until I reach the Hospital Wing.

"Miss Black!" Madam Pomfrey exclaims as I burst through her doors. "Whatever is the matter?!"

"Can I see Rosie? Just for five minutes?" I plead, slightly out of breath. "Please? Five minutes."

Madam Pomfrey starts to object, but all it takes is my best puppy-dog eyes (complete with head-tilt) before she relents, although not before warning me to keep my visit short and quiet, or else she'd have me evicted.

I nod and patiently wait for her to return to her office before stomping over to one of the only occupied beds that held one Roselyn McKinnon, wrapped in blankets up to her chin.

"Orissa-" she croaks hoarsely upon seeing me approach, but I quickly cut her off.

"Why in the name of Merlin's mother did you not tell me about your transfer?" I demand hotly. "And what happened to you? Where were you today?"

"Slow down," she rasps, and I notice that her voice sounds like she's been swallowing rocks. "I've been sick...'S really contagious..."

I pause and look down at my hands, only half-surprised to find them clenched tightly around the frame at the foot of the bed.

"Well, it's too late now," I shrug and come up to the side of the bed, pulling up a chair and taking a seat.

Rosie lets out a weak chuckle before growing serious. "How'd you find out about the transfer?"

"McGonagall told me when I was in her office for fighting with one of your ex-schoolmates,". I admit, taking great pride in saying the word ex-schoolmates.

"What?!" Rosie exclaims in what was probably supposed to be a yelp but was ruined by her voice breaking in the middle of the word. She started struggling against her blankets as she asked, "Did you get in trouble?"

"Hey, calm down," I soothe, resting a hand on top of her blankets to still her. "It's fine, I'm no stranger to getting in trouble, as you well know. Besides," I continue, glancing around the Hospital Wing, "it's only one detention, and it just so happens to be in here – which, in hindsight, I'm sure was planned, because McGonagall can be crafty like that."

Rosie gives a weak little laugh and sinks back into her many pillows. "'M not so sure about that. She seems strict."

"Ah, no, she loves me, you'll see," I insist with a grin. "So, the transfer...?"

"Yeah, well..." she gives me a rueful grin. "Surprise, you're going to be stuck with me. Maxime 'n Dumbledore are getting everything in order...I'm getting Sorted on Sunday."

"Yay," I grin. "Here's hoping you're in Gryffindor – the other's just aren't as good, you know."

"Will it be a problem. If I'm...somewhere else?" Roselyn asks, cut off by a violent coughing fit.

"Nah, I'm adaptable," I tell her dismissively, placing a hand on her shoulder until she's done coughing. "You okay? I can go get Madam Pomfrey."

"No, 'M fine," she croaks.

I wasn't entirely convinced, but I decide to let it go and lean back in the chair. "If you say so. Rosie?"

"Mm?"

"How'd you end up in France if they all hate you?" I ask quietly.

The simple question seems to have an adverse effect on her – Rosie freezes, her face looking like that of a caged animal before it fades. "It – I can't tell you. Not yet. I'm trying to, honestly, but I-"

"It's okay," I interrupt her. "Seriously, it's fine. You don't have to tell me everything. We've literally known each other less than a week," I remind her.

"I'm gonna tell you eventually," she mutters, burrowing deeper into her blankets as Madam Pomfrey comes bustling out of her office.

"Are you upsetting my patients, Miss Black?" She asks suspiciously.

"No, ma'am," I quickly defend.

Madam Pomfrey doesn't seem to buy that, but she shakes her head after a moment. "Off with you, then. Go enjoy your dinner, and I'll see you after that."

I nod and, after bidding Rosie goodbye, take off for the Great Hall.

Dinner was a quick affair; I ate as quickly as I could, answering all my friends' questions about the fistfight (thanks to the school rumor mill, everyone knew, even though it had only been an hour or so) before excusing myself, stating I had detention with Madam Pomfrey.

I hurry back to the Hospital Wing, greeting Madam Pomfrey and receiving my detention: scrubbing bedpans – without magic.

It was hard, and it was disgusting, but I took off my outer robes and rolled up my sleeves and got to work. Madam Pomfrey had been kind enough to place me within eyesight of Rosie's bed. Even though she was asleep, I appreciated being able to keep an eye on my friend.

Because she was my friend – I'd punched someone in her defense today, so I think she made the 'friend' list. And I didn't have very many of those, if you didn't count friends that were also Harry's friends or Harry himself. And it wasn't that I didn't love Ron and Hermione – they were great. And they didn't intentionally exclude me, but there had always been this unspoken feeling that they were Harry's friends.

Rosie was my friend. She didn't like me because I knew Harry Potter, or because I was rich and famous. She liked me because I was funny and sneaky and awesome.

I suppose it was a good thing, then, that she was here to stay.