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Living at the Burrow felt like a weird dream.
The magic was one reason for that. Everywhere she looked there was something cool, like the mirror in the living room that told her off for not brushing her hair, or the broom that chased anyone who dropped crumbs on its precious floor. There was the music on Mrs Weasley's old radio; everything from the Weird Sisters to Celestina Warbeck to Ginny's favourite singer, Canta.
No, what felt most unreal about the Weasleys was that they all seemed, well, nice.
Mrs Weasley fussed over her and Harry constantly and Mr Weasley loved to chat with them about perfectly normal parts of muggle life. Fred and George teased everyone and made sure life didn't get too dull, when they weren't blowing up their room that was, and Ron was funny when he wasn't being sulky. Even Percy, as serious as he could be, was better than Uncle Vernon.
Hazel kept waiting to wake up in the cupboard under the stairs in Privet Drive. She went to sleep every night expecting the thumping of Dudley's footsteps or Uncle Vernon roaring at Harry for something, anything. That was reality, and it was what waited for her at the end of the summer.
Hazel woke early to brilliant sunshine pouring through Ginny's open window and the singing of the birds in the garden. Ginny was still fast asleep despite the best attempts of her alarm, a witch in quidditch robes furiously waving her arms, to wake her. Hazel lay for a little while, just bathing in this weird and wonderful feeling of being happy, until Ginny was ready. It was nice not having to get up to make breakfast or iron shirts or clean something.
Mrs Weasley was pottering around the kitchen as usual and Mr Weasley was sitting at the table, reading the Daily Prophet. Shouldn't he be at work? Oh right, it was a Saturday. The days sort of blended today at the Burrow.
"Morning, dear," Mrs Weasley appeared beside her as soon as she sat down, carrying a plate of freshly made pancakes and a jar of honey. It smelt so good.
"Good morning," Mr Weasley smiled kindly and looked over the top of his newspaper. It was still weird to have someone other than Harry smile at her, "I see you have post."
Ginny sat up like she'd been electrocuted, "We do?"
Mr Weasley handed over two thick parchment envelopes, exactly like the ones that had come for Harry last year. It even felt the same in her fingers but somehow different. That letter had been Harry's but this, this was hers.
Wasn't it?
No, the address couldn't have been clearer:
Hazel Potter
Ginevra Weasley's Room
The Burrow
Ottery Saint-Catchpole
It had the same wax seal too on the back; the lion, the snake, the eagle and the badger around a large letter 'H'.
Ginny had already opened hers and was waiting impatiently.
"Well, go on," She nudged Hazel, "It won't read itself."
Her fingers were shaking as she carefully peeled off the stamp. She didn't want to ruin it; she didn't want to ruin anything about this moment.
The letter inside was written in the same curvy script as last year:
Dear Miss Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Hazel read it again, just to make doubly sure. Just in case it really had been sent to her by mistake.
You have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…
It was really happening…
"We're going to Hogwarts!" Ginny took Hazel's hand and leapt up from the table. They danced around the kitchen while Mr Weasley chuckled, and Mrs Weasley beamed.
No Stonewall High!
No ragged third-hand uniform!
No going home to the Dursleys every night for the rest of her life!
"What's going on?" Ron and Harry came down the stairs, yawning and messy haired.
Ginny stopped dancing at once. Her face went bright pink as she accidentally knocked the honey jar off the table and ducked out of sight.
Harry didn't notice. He was looking at Hazel with a widening grin, "Is that…?"
"I'm going to Hogwarts," She whispered.
"Yes!" Harry hugged her tightly, bouncing on the spot, "I told you would! I told you! You'll get to see Hagrid again! There's the feasts and the common room and quidditch! You'll get to play quidditch!"
She felt like she was floating. The cupboard under the stairs felt like it was a million miles away.
"Did you get your letter too then?" Ron asked Ginny. He gave Hazel an awkward pat on the shoulder before he sat down.
Ginny emerged from the under the table, mumbled something and promptly knocked the butter dish over. She disappeared from view again.
When Fred and George appeared, their reaction to the letters was a round of wild applause and cheers,
"That's all the Weasleys," George said.
"And all the Potters!" Harry added.
"No putting you back under the cupboard then!" Fred said to Hazel.
"Shame, it looked so cosy," George laughed.
Hazel grinned as she ate her toast.
After a brief distraction in which the Weasley's ancient owl, Errol, crashed into the window before delivering a letter, Fred pulled out the book list.
"Merlin's buckteeth," He scanned down it, "Does everyone need a full set of Lockhart books?"
Hazel checked the second piece of parchment that had been in the envelope. Yup, seven books, all written by Gilderoy Lockhart, whoever that was.
"These won't come cheap," George looked at his parents, "Lockhart's books are really expensive."
"We'll manage," Mrs Weasley said but she looked worried.
Hazel looked over at Harry in time to catch his eye. It was obvious what he was thinking; they had a fortune lying under London, a gift from their mum and dad.
She'd have happily shared it with the Weasleys. It was the least they could do for their kindness.
In the afternoon, Harry went with Ron, Fred, and George to play quidditch while Ginny and Hazel went to a small brook near the house. It was pleasantly warm, the water bubbled softly, and a gentle breeze brought the smell of freshy cut grass. Hazel settled back on the bank with her hands threaded through her hair and watched the clouds pass overhead.
"Is it true that the gamekeeper knocked your door down last year?" Ginny skipped a stone expertly across the water, "Ron told me, but I didn't believe him."
"Sort of," Hazel smiled at the memory, "My Uncle had brought us to a shack in the middle of nowhere, trying to escape him. Hagrid flew through a huge storm to deliver Harry his letter."
"That's really cool."
"It was terrifying! I thought the whole place was going to fall over. That was the first time we knew we could do magic."
"So you had no idea Harry was famous?"
"I still don't, really. To me, he's just Harry. I didn't know about Voldemort-"
Ginny flinched violently. Her stone missed the river and hit the opposite bank.
"Sorry, I forgot some people don't like that name."
"No one does," Ginny looked scared and impressed, "I thought you wouldn't-"
"I only heard about him last year, about what happened…" She looked down into the river.
"What are you most looking forward to? At Hogwarts, I mean," Ginny asked hurriedly.
"I don't know," Hazel forced herself to think of Hogwarts, to feel that excitement again, "After everything Harry's told me, I think I'm looking forward to all of it."
"Me too! I really want to explore the grounds, see if I can find any secrets. Fred and George found loads in their first year and they never stop boasting about it," She gave a wistful sigh, "It's going to be amazing. I've gone to Diagon Alley so many times to get the boy's things and now it's my turn at last!"
"I've only been to Diagon Alley once, last year to get Harry's things," She smiled at the memory of the crowded streets and so many strange shops, "I wanted to get a wand too, but Hagrid said I was too young."
"It'll be great," Ginny said but she looked sad, "Not that mine will be new."
"Doesn't everyone get a new wand from Ollivanders?"
"No one else did. Bill got my Great-Uncle Fagius' old wand, Charlie got my Great-Great-Aunt Tilly's, Percy got Bill's, Fred and George got theirs second hand and then Ron got Charlie's. We never get anything new."
Hazel looked down at her trainers. They were better than anything Harry had ever been given from the Dursleys, but the logo had faded a long time ago and the soles were worn smooth, "I know how that feels."
"At least you'll get some new stuff now."
"Yeah," Ginny definitely deserved a new wand, more than Hazel did.
They were quiet for a little while.
"I do want to meet Peeves though," said Ginny.
"The poltergeist?" She had read Harry's letters so many times she knew them by heart.
"I want to see if he's as bad as people say."
"Harry said he's a nightmare."
"Yeah, but Fred and George think he's funny. Then again their opinion on what's funny probably isn't too normal, which is great because-"
"Careful, little sister," Came a voice from behind which made them jump.
"Yeah, you'll make us blush," Fred sat down next to Ginny and George beside Hazel.
"What are you two doing here?" Ginny asked suspiciously.
"Oh, charming," Fred pretended to sound hurt, "What a way to greet your favourite brothers."
"Mum's made you lunch," George tossed over two bundles of wrapped brown paper. Inside were corned beef and pickled onion sandwiches. They were as delicious as everything Mrs Weasley made.
"Why aren't you playing quidditch?" Ginny asked.
"We gave up pretty quickly," said Fred.
"Harry was flying circles around us," said George as he ate his own sandwich, "He might have an edge with that Nimbus of his."
"Could have been worse though," said George, "You could have been flying Ron's Shooting Star. I think I could throw it faster."
"Shut up," said Ron as he sat down on the bank with Harry. Ginny choked on her lunch but no one else seemed to notice.
"Don't worry Ronny-kins," George grinned, "It's not always the broom, it's the person flying it."
"What if it's both, George?"
"You know, I never thought of that, Fred."
"I said shut up," Ron scowled as he took a seat next to George and Harry sat alongside him, "Did everyone get corned beef?"
"Eat it up Ron," George waved his sandwich in front of him, "It'll put hair on your chest."
Ron scowled as he ate.
"Is your mum still annoyed about the flying car?" asked Harry.
"Annoyed? She's absolutely furious," Fred chuckled, "but Dad knows the drill. He'll keep his head down for a few weeks and then when mum's forgotten about it, he'll sneak back into the shed. It's not the first time. Do you remember the toaster?"
"Ah yes," George sighed, "I thought that was a good idea. Except when it nearly burnt the house down."
"So long as he doesn't enchant the chicken coop to clean itself out, he'll get away with it."
"Besides," George said, "We have much bigger problems."
"What?" Harry asked.
"Ginny," Ginny jumped in surprise at Fred's stern tone, "We need to talk."
"You call that stone skipping?" George shook his head, "I've never seen such sloppy technique."
"To think we call you our sister," Fred sighed, "Come on, let's see who can do it best."
It was the following Wednesday that the Weasleys and Potters were going to Diagon Alley. They had woken up early to get their breakfast of sausage butties, of which Mrs Weasley had insisted she and Harry have double helpings, but Hazel was sure she was still asleep. That could be the only reason for what she'd just heard.
"By fire?" She repeated. Just to be sure she'd heard right.
"Yes dear," Mrs Weasley looked worried, "Floo Powder is quick but, goodness me, if you've never used it before."
"They'll be fine, mum. Here, watch me." Fred stepped forward confidently and took a pinch of green powder from the pot his mother was holding. He threw it into the fire and at once the sedate flames rose up as tall as a person, green and fierce.
Hazel wasn't really sure what to expect. Her immediate instinct was to find a fire extinguisher. Then Fred stepped into the fireplace. She gasped aloud and put her hands over her mouth. Rather than burning to a crisp though, Fred was grinning.
"Diagon Alley!" He shouted.
The flames flashed fiercely, and she shielded her eyes. When she looked back, he was gone. That was different. Her mouth had suddenly gone very dry.
"You must speak clearly," Mrs Weasley said as George did the same thing as Fred and vanished into the roaring fire, "And mind you get out of the right grate."
"The right what?" Harry sounded as nervous as she felt. At least it wasn't just her who thought this was mental.
"There are a lot of fires to choose from but as long as you've spoken clearly-"
"They'll be fine Molly," Mr Weasley now had a pinch of powder as well, "Don't fuss."
"But, Arthur, what if they get lost?"
"We'll be ahead for them to follow, don't worry."
"Well, alright then. Hazel, why don't you go after Arthur? Just be sure to follow him."
How did she follow him? How did she get out at the other end? Why was she even thinking about stepping into a roaring, green fire?
"Keep your elbows tucked in," Ron offered helpfully.
"And keep your eyes shut, the soot-" said Mrs Weasley.
"And don't fidget, or else you might fall out of the wrong fireplace."
"But don't panic and get out too early. Wait until you can see Arthur, Fred and George."
Feeling light-headed and trying to keep all that in mind, Hazel dipped her hand into the flowerpot. The powder inside felt warm, like sand on a beach. With a deep breath, she threw it into the fire. The flames rose up as green and vicious as before.
She stood rooted to the spot. Her feet felt like they were glued to the tiles.
"Something the matter, dear?" Mrs Weasley asked kindly.
How was she supposed to answer that? 'Don't touch the fire' was up there with 'Don't jump in front of cars' as one of the first things she'd ever learned. It was very hard to get it out of her mind.
What was wrong with the bus?
"If you want, Harry can go first?" Mrs Weasley said.
"No," It had worked for the others so there was no reason it shouldn't work for her. Right?
With a deep breath, she stepped into the fire.
She flinched as she expected burning pain, but there was none. It actually felt like a warm bath. This wasn't so bad.
She pressed her arms so tightly into her sides that it hurt, took another breath and shouted in a high pitch voice, "Diagon Alley!"
It felt like the floor had dropped from beneath her. She was falling and spinning, twisting and turning like she was plummeting down a narrow pipe. Shapes whizzed by on all sides, impossible to make out. Ash was stinging at her eyes and her throat, and it felt like she kept banging against a brick wall with her elbows.
There! That might have been red hair. She tried to stop herself spinning.
She fell out of the fireplace with a heavy and graceless thump.
She had no idea where she was. At the minute, she didn't particularly care. The whole room was spinning. Her stomach felt like it was trying to escape out of her mouth. Both her elbows and knees stung fiercely.
Definitely prefer the bus…
There was no sign of the Weasleys.
Hazel got to her feet like a newborn lamb. When were her legs going to stop shaking?
Where was she?
It was definitely a pub, but it wasn't how she remembered the Leaky Cauldron. It was dark and dingy, and the alcoves were hidden in shadow. It smelt of stale beer and tobacco and there was a fine mist hanging in the air that made her cough.
There was silence as she glanced around at the fireplace. It was now empty. No going back that way. There were figures moving around her in the shadows.
"Who're you?" the barman demanded. He was stooped with grey whiskers and a missing eye in a scarred face.
"Um," Hazel's heart was beating very quickly, "Hazel…Hazel Potter."
"Potter?" the barman growled. There was muttering from the shadows, "That name's does not welcome here. Clear off!"
Suddenly her churning stomach and wobbly legs didn't matter. Hazel ran for the door as fast as she could. It was only just visible through the smoke. She wrenched it open and ran through without looking.
And crashed into a girl on the other side. They were both knocked to the filthy cobbles with a yelp.
"Atia!" A blonde woman picked the girl by the shoulders. She was looking down at Hazel like she had stepped in something incredibly disgusting, "Watch where you're going, you little brat!"
"Sorry," Hazel's confident disappeared under the woman's cold glare. It was like looking into Uncle Vernon's eyes when she was about to be punished. She didn't dare speak. She barely dared breath.
"Come along, Atia," The woman turned her attention back to her daughter. That was the only person it could be; they had the same long, straight hair, the same sneering expression, "We'll wait for your father and Draco here."
She slammed the door without a backwards glance.
It took Hazel a minute to get that cold, angry look out of her mind and to think again.
This was definitely not Diagon Alley, not unless someone had sucked all the colour and fun out of it since last year. Even the people passing by looked miserable. They kept their heads down and muttered as they pushed past her. She did not like the looks some of them were giving her at all.
Was she even in London?
"Well, you look lost."
Hazel jumped and turned. It was a pale man in a long dark coat with filthy hair. He was leering at her with black eyes in a way that set her hairs on end. The smell of stale sweat was churning her stomach again.
"Potter, wasn't it?" He said in a voice greasy as bacon, "You want to be careful. Plenty of people down here would love to see a Potter on her own. Why don't you come with me, eh?."
"Thank you, but I'm okay," She managed to say even though her tongue was sticking to the roof of her mouth.
"No, no," He took a step closer. She stepped back, "You'll be coming with me."
"Leave her alone!" Someone pushed past her and shoved the man. It was Harry, his hands balled into fists. How was he here?
The man stumbled at first in his surprise, but he quickly pushed Harry back into Hazel with a more malevolent look.
"Two Potters?" His black eyes flicked to Harry's forehead, "Even better, why don't I-"
"Harry! Hazel!"
He leapt back in alarm as a man twice the size of anyone in the street strode towards him.
"Hagrid!" Harry said in relief.
Hagrid was glaring down at the man who suddenly looked very worried, "Why don' you clear off eh? I got 'em from 'ere."
The man ran without a backwards glance.
"Thank good," Harry tried to say but Hagrid cut across him crossly.
"Wha' the ruddy 'ell do ya think yer doin'? Come on, let's ge' ya somewhere safe!"
He set off and Harry and Hazel jogged after him. There was no slowing him down either, the crowds parted like they were making space for a lorry.
Hagrid muttered to himself all the way.
"Lily an' James kids, in Knockturn Alley! Never would have thouh' it. Ya couldn' have found anywhere dodgier."
That was some understatement.
"We didn't do it on purpose!" Harry said as Hagrid brushed soot off his shoulder and knocked him forward about three feet, "We were using Floo powder!"
"Where did you end up?" He asked Hazel.
"A pub of some kind, it was pretty horrible."
Hagrid tutted loudly and tried to brush soot from her shoulder. Luckily, she was quick enough to avoid his bin-lid sized hand, "You didn' end up in the Black Penny? Nasty place, tha' pub. Not very friendly folk."
You don't say…
"How about you?" She asked Harry.
"A shop, it was full of dark objects and I guess who I saw!"
Hagrid gave a loud and disapproving tut.
"Why were you in Knockturn Alley?" Harry asked.
"Buying flesh-eating slug repellent," He said, "They're ruining the school cabbages."
They turned a corner onto a bright street with a great white building at the far end. The shop fronts were colourful, and the browsing shoppers looked happy.
This was definitely the Diagon Alley she remembered.
"Harry! Hazel! Thank goodness!" Mrs Weasley was rushing over with Ginny trailing behind her. She looked pale and worried, "You found them, Hagrid! Where were they?"
"Knockturn Alley," Hagrid said.
"Brilliant!" Fred and George had joined them with Ron and a very strained looking Mr Weasley, "We've never been allowed."
"I should ruddy well hope not," Hagrid said as Mrs Weasley wrung his hand furiously and Mr Weasley fixed Harry's glasses with one wave of his wand, "Now, I'll leave ye two here, if I can trust ya tha' is."
As soon as they passed the goblins at the Gringotts doors, Harry was smothered by a witch about his age with frizzy hair and large front teeth.
"Hi Hermione," Harry wheezed through her hug.
"I've been worried all summer," Hermione said, "I was wondering why you weren't answering my letters. I even tried sending them via the muggle post, but they obviously didn't get through either. I wasn't sure about Ron's plan, it sounded very dangerous, but I'm glad you're okay. And I presume you're Hazel?"
Hermione had turned to her and held out her hand. Hazel took it because she wasn't sure what else to do. It felt a bit like meeting the headmistress.
"It's lovely to meet you, you're exactly how Harry described you."
"Am I?" Harry would never say anything bad, but she was very aware of thin and small she was next to Hermione. There wasn't much to look at.
Hermione was distracted as Mr Weasley introduced himself to her parents ("But you're muggles! Do you have any of those 'fiver pounds'?) and then they were led to their respective vaults. The journey down to the vaults was as wild as she remembered: twisting and spinning in every direction. Compared to floo powder, it was like a milk float.
The Weasley vault was an awful experience, it was so bare that Mrs Weasley had to root in the corners to find every single coin. Her stomach squirmed guiltily when they reached their own afterwards, overflowing with gold and silver. Like Harry, she wanted out as quickly as possible and hurriedly filled her coin purse. The Weasleys were going to be so upset, so annoyed. Mr and Mrs Weasley simply smiled as they climbed back into the cart and sped off towards the surface. The Dursleys would have taken on every goblin, wizard, and dragon Gringotts had if they knew there was all this gold down here, belonging to her and her brother. How could two sets of parents be so different?
Not that the Dursleys had ever been her parents.
Mrs Weasley sighed once they were back in the daylight,
"Right, we'll split up. Ginny, Hazel, we'll go get your school things. Arthur-"
"I must bring the Grangers to the Leaky Cauldron! We have so much to talk about!"
"Alright then. Ron, Harry, Hermione, I can trust you to buy your own supplies?"
"Yes, mum," Ron said sulkily.
"Okay, then we'll meet at Flourish and Blotts to buy your schoolbooks. And not one step down Knockturn Alley, you two!" She shouted at the twins' retreating backs.
Hazel felt the weight of the coins in her pocket and had a mad urge to buy something, anything. The Dursley had never given her so much as a penny and now she was carrying more money than Dudley had ever held. And it was hers. Did she buy that self-filling ice cream cone? How about the massive eagle owl sitting outside the Owl Emporium? Baby blue silk dress robes? She had no idea what they were for, but she wanted them.
Mrs Weasley brought them to the apothecary to buy their potions ingredients and a shiny new cauldron. Not quite a refilling ice cream but better than nothing. Ginny had to make do with one that looked like it had been kicked off the back of a lorry. It wasn't even round.
In Woodrow Wendell's Wonderous Works, they bought their parchment and ink. She did treat herself to a quill that wrote in pink ink and tasted like bubble gum when the end was chewed. Was it practical? Definitely not. Did she love it? Absolutely yes.
Madame Malkan's was next on the list. Hazel was led to a stand where she was measured and fitted for new robes while Ginny tried the second-hand shelves. She looked more and more crestfallen each time she changed as the sets only seemed to get lumpier, patchier, and shabbier. The last set looked like an old jumper she'd once had, that Aunt Petunia had made her try on in front of the entire shop. The hem had touched her feet like a ballgown and smelt like someone had slept and eaten in it their entire lives. She remembered seeing herself in the mirror and thinking just how pathetic she looked.
It wasn't right.
"We'll get your wands next," Mrs Weasley smiled as she checked her list, "Have you been to Ollivander's before, dear?"
"Yes, Mrs Weasley." It had been Harry who had been looking for his wand on their last visit. He had tried every wand in the shop before Mr Ollivander was satisfied. He had been a little unnerving.
The shop was the same as it had been last time. There were boxes stacked against every wall up to the ceiling and so many lying around in neat piles that there was only a tiny space in which to stand. Mr Ollivander looked up from behind his desk as the door chimed.
"Well, well," He said in a low voice, "Welcome back, Miss Potter."
So, she hadn't imagined the unblinking, grey eyes then. She quickly looked down at her own feet.
"I have been waiting for your return," he was moving boxes around, "I was so very tempted to give this to you last year, but these things must wait until the proper moment."
He placed a box on his counter and walked circles around her. She felt a bit like a car being checked for scratches. There was no sign of the tape measure that been so thorough with Harry last year. Did Mr Ollivander not need to know the width between her nostrils then?
"Perhaps," he seemed to be speaking to himself. Mrs Weasley and Ginny may as well not have been there, "It's rare but, yes, it might just work."
He picked up the box, pulled off the lid and offered it to her,
"Ten and three-quarter inches, willow, unicorn hair. Very swishy," he whispered, "Try it."
She wasn't expecting much when she reached in. As long as the first wand she touched didn't blow up some part of the shop. As her fingers closed around it she felt a warmth shoot up her arm, like she had dipped it in a pleasant bath. It just felt…right.
She gave it a wave. A string of golden thread poured from the tip and floated in the middle of the dusty shop. Had she done that? The happiness bubbled up in her chest. She had her wand! She was really going to be a witch!
"Excellent, oh, excellent!" Mr Ollivander clapped delightedly, "I had thought, well, I had hoped…"
He trailed off, as if he were thinking, before turning to Mrs Weasley. His calm and quiet demeanour turned sharp.
"Mrs Weasley. The usual, will it be?"
"Yes, Mr Ollivander," Mrs Weasley said sheepishly.
"I have told you each and every year you have entered this shop, Mrs Weasley. The wand chooses the witch, not the other way around. A second-hand wand will do fine, but the witch or wizard loses something so very precious in the process."
That was it. Hazel couldn't stand it anymore. This was the happiest she had ever been, and Ginny wasn't going to get that feeling, just because of some stupid gold.
She cleared her throat, and everyone turned to look at her. She hated when that happened, it was like being at the front of the class again.
"Um, Mrs Weasley," She didn't sound as confident as she'd hoped, "Could…I buy Ginny a wand please?"
Ginny's eyes widened and Mrs Weasley looked horrified, "Certainly not, Hazel! I couldn't let you do that. They're awfully expensive."
"I know," Hazel said. It didn't matter what Mrs Weasley said, Ginny was going to get a new wand. It was the least she deserved, "But it was Ginny's birthday recently and she's been so nice to me since I arrived at the Burrow. Can I buy her one as a present?"
"Can she, mum?" Ginny squeezed Mrs Weasley's hand, "Please?"
Mrs Weasley hesitated, "Well, alright then."
"Thanks mum!" Ginny hugged Mrs Weasley tightly and followed Mr Ollivander as he pulled out the tape measure.
It took only a few boxes before she waved a wand and it sent stars flying through the air: fourteen inches, yew, and a dragon heartstring core.
"Arthur and I will give you some gold towards Ginny's wand," Mrs Weasley said as Ollivander wrapped both boxes, "It's not fair that you're paying for two wands."
"Just one wand, Mrs Weasley," Ollivander said, "Your daughter's wand is new, but Miss Potter's is not. Its fee was paid a long time ago."
"What do you mean?" Mrs Weasley furrowed her brow.
Ollivander handed Hazel her box, "I have held this wand in my care for a great many years. It was left on my door one autumn morning, with the gold I would need to care for it. Who left it with me, I do not know, but the wand...I remember every wand I have ever sold, and I recognised this one right away. I have long wondered if it would fit you as well as it did her."
"Who?" Hazel felt a chill run down her spine. It felt like she knew the answer already, but she had to hear it.
"She was such a bright young woman," Ollivander sighed sadly, "And her wand was a very strong match. She was a gifted witch, your mother."
Hazel was very quiet as they made their way to Flourish and Blotts.
Her kept running the wand through her fingers, again and again. This had been her mum's. She still didn't really believe it. She had held it, cast spells with it, put it in her pocket. Maybe she'd even tucked it behind her ear. Hazel squeezed it tightly. It was like she could feel the warmth of her mum's hand through it.
Flourish and Blotts was very busy. A queue of witches about Mrs Weasley's age were snaking down the street and people were fighting to get in and out of the shop past them. Everyone else was near to the door, just inside the shop. Even with so many people, the Weasleys were hard to miss.
"What's going on?" Mrs Weasley asked as they joined the queue.
Fred rolled his eyes and nodded to a sigh in the shop window;
"FOR ONE DAY ONLY: Gilderoy Lockhart will be here today to sign copies of his new autobiography, Magical Me."
"Goodness me," Mrs Weasley flushed pink and began fixing her hair.
"It's so exciting!" Hermione said eagerly, "I mean he wrote pretty much the entire book list!"
Gilderoy Lockhart was sitting at a table at the back of the shop, surrounded by excited fans. There was too much of a crowd for Hazel to see him, but she could tell he was a good-looking man with immaculate blonde hair and a charming, wide smile. The massive, beaming photos hanging everywhere helped with that. He really was very handsome. Her heart beat a little quicker.
A man was jumping around in front of the queue, taking photos with a camera that emitted coloured puffs of smoke with every flash.
"Get out of the way," He snapped as the group made their way to the front of the queue, "This is for the Daily Prophet!"
"Big deal," Ron said loudly and rubbed his foot where the man had stepped on it.
Lockhart looked up at the voice. He froze as he caught sight of Harry.
"It can't be," He jumped up, "Harry Potter!"
The crowd whispered excitedly. Harry was shoved out into the middle by the people behind. She tried to grab his sleeve, to pull him back into the crowd but everyone was pushing to get to the front, and she was shoved out of reach. Lockhart was beaming at the crowd, but Harry had a pained look. He was hating this, everyone staring at him. It was like he was a particularly interesting zoo exhibit. The Daily Prophet man was taking endless photographs and filling the shop with the smell of rotten eggs.
Could she knock over a bookcase? Maybe distract everyone long enough for Harry to escape. They looked heavy. She could pretend to faint maybe, but everyone was so fixed on Lockhart and Harry they probably wouldn't even notice.
Where was Hagrid when you needed him?
"When Harry Potter," Lockhart announced to the silent crowd and put special emphasis on 'Potter', "Came in today to buy, Magical Me, which shall be provided free of charge with signed copies of my full works, that he would soon be seeing much more of the real magical me. Yes, I am delighted to announce that from this September I shall be taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"
The crowd clapped and cheered. Lockhart let go of Harry to drink in the attention and he took advantage to fight his way back over to them.
"That was mental," Ron said.
"You should see your face," George sniggered.
Harry gave him a dirty look and dumped the Lockhart books into Ginny's new-ish cauldron, "You take these. I'll buy my own."
"Does that happen a lot?" Hazel asked.
"All the time."
"I guess we need to buy the Daily Prophet then. It's not every day your brother's in the paper."
"Thank god."
"Bet you loved that, Potter," said a drawling voice from above them.
Everyone looked up to see a small, pale boy with a pointed face and blonde hair sneering down at them. He looked very familiar. He was with two large boys who must be Crabbe and Goyle.
"Shove off, Malfoy," said Ron angrily.
"The famous Harry Potter," Malfoy said in the same mocking voice, "Can't even walk into a bookstore without making the front page."
"Leave him alone," Ginny, of all people, snapped, "He didn't ask for any of that!"
Malfoy laughed coldly, "Look Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend. Who might you be? Don't tell me; red hair and decrepit possession; you're yet another Weasley. Are you the last one or is there another quidditch team's worth waiting to lower the tone of the place even more?"
Ginny's ears went pink. Malfoy reminded Hazel so much of Dudley, so happy in making others feel miserable, so happy to hurt anyone he felt like. Anger bubbled up in her stomach.
"Do you enjoy bullying girls?" She snapped. Where had that come from?
"And who are you?" Malfoy's eyes widened, "Ah, you're the other Potter. The one nobody cares about. The pointless one."
Hazel's confidence wilted as she felt heat coming to her cheeks. Those cold eyes reminded her so much of Uncle Vernon and his words were like a punch to the stomach.
The one nobody cares about…
Harry pushed in front of her, "Leave my sister alone, Malfoy."
She knew that tone, she only ever heard it when Dudley was picking on her. Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles threateningly. They both looked like they could hammer Harry into the ground with one fist.
"Careful," Malfoy drawled, "You don't want to get into trouble. Maybe you want that on the front of the paper as well."
Hazel moved at the same time Harry did. She pushed between them just as Harry grabbed Malfoy's top and balled his fist. Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward at the same time as the Weasley twins.
"No!" She pushed him back with both hands, "Leave it."
Harry let go of Malfoy.
"What's this?" Malfoy sneered, "The famous Harry Potter's a coward? Runs in the family, does it? Just like being scum runs in theirs."
Hazel fell aside as Ron launched himself at Malfoy. There was instance chaos as books rained down on top of them. Crabbe and Goyle, Harry, Fred and George jumped into the swirling mass of fists. People shouted and shoved to get out of the way.
"Break it up! Break it up!" Hagrid waded into the sea of books and pulled everyone apart. He took a few accidental fists in the process, but he wasn't bothered. It was a bit like punching a tree trunk. Draco had a black eye and Harry had a cut on his nose as well as broken glasses.
"Boys!" Mr Weasley had come over, "What is going on?"
"What's happening, Draco?" asked another man who approached. He had to Malfoy's father, he had the same blonde hair, the same cold eyes and the same arrogant sneer.
"Lucius," Mr Weasley said coldly.
"Can't keep your children under control, Arthur?" Lucius asked very coldly, "Enjoy them running amok?"
"How I discipline my children is none of your concern, Lucius."
"And I would have thought being a disgrace of a wizard would have been enough."
"We have very different ideas of what disgraces a wizard."
"Clearly," Mr Malfoy sneered as he picked up one of Ginny's books and threw it back to her, "Here girl, it's the best your father can give you. Though perhaps a pair of boxing gloves would suit you better. Or maybe a cell reserved in Azkaban. Come, Draco."
"What on earth happened?" Mr Weasley turned to his children. He had gone very red in the face, "It's most unlike you, boys."
"It was Draco, dad!" Fred said as he nursed a cut lip, "He was saying horrible things about Harry and Hazel."
"You shouldn' have reacted to him," said Hagrid, "Rotten to the core, the whole family. No Malfoy's wort' listening to."
It was a quiet group who went back to the Leaky Cauldron. Mrs Weasley was embarrassed and furious in equal measure and no one dared break the silence, in case she exploded at them. They said goodbye to the Grangers in the pub, as they were heading home via the tube.
Lucky them.
Knowing her luck, she was probably to end up in Manchester.
It wasn't until that evening that she got some time alone with Harry in the Burrow. Ginny was busy in her room and Ron was arguing with Percy in the kitchen. She could hear them roaring even two floors up. It still sounded different to when Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia shouted.
She was sitting cross-legged on Ron's vivid orange bed and watching Harry. He was holding her wand as if it were made of glass, like any sudden movement might shatter it.
"This was mums?" He asked in a pained voice.
She just nodded.
"Ollivander had no idea who left it with him?"
She shook her head. Her throat felt very tight.
Harry gave her back her wand and rummaged in his open trunk. She knew what he was going to get and shuffled over as he pulled out the photo album. It had been a gift to him last year, from Hagrid. There were their mum and dad, smiling back up at them, holding hands, dancing on an autumn day, waving in front of a house.
There was a pain in her chest as she watched them, a longing that was nearly overwhelming. She looked so like her mum, same green eyes, same red hair. She held her wand tighter, to feel that warmth again. Was it so bad that she wanted to touch the photos? That she wanted to hear her mum speak just once?
"How's your nose?" She asked at last.
"It's okay. Mrs Weasley says it isn't broken."
"And your glasses?"
"Fixed as they'll ever be."
"You should have left him alone. Hagrid's right."
Harry shook his head, "I'm not letting him bully you all year. No way."
"How bad can Malfoy be compared to Dudley?"
"He makes Dudley look like a choirboy."
"Oh. Well, I'll cope," She smiled even as a shiver of fear ran down her back, "I put up with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia for a year. I'm used to it."
Harry didn't speak. He wouldn't even look at her, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, I think Ron was about to hit him for you anyway."
"Not that. About last year. It wasn't fair."
It had been a horrible year, a whole ten months of her aunt and uncle's harsh words, angry stares and just flat out ignoring her. What hurt more was knowing Harry was away having fun, seeing new things, escaping Privet Drive without her.
"The loneliness was the hardest part," She had been so happy to see him return to Privet Drive that she'd forgotten about how angry she'd been. Angry at him, angry at Hogwarts, the wizarding world. Angry at everything. But even now she couldn't be cross, not when he looked so furious with himself, "But your letters helped."
"Well, I'm not putting you through that again," Harry said firmly, "Never again."
The siblings stayed together until a red-faced Ron came up to bed and she went back to Ginny's room with her new wand firmly held in her hands.