Fred and George Weasley arrived at King's Cross early, something that only happened when they were particularly excited—or, in this case, anxious. The twins hadn't heard a single word from Brooklyn since she left the Burrow in June. The silence had been deafening, leaving them worried sick about their best friend. As they leaned against the Hogwarts Express, they spotted Angelina Johnson and Lee Jordan arriving and quickly waved them over.
"Hey," Lee greeted, hauling his trunk behind him. "What's with the urgent owl to get here early?"
Fred's face darkened, and he glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "We need to talk to you about Brooklyn."
"Something bad happened," George added, his tone uncharacteristically serious. He quickly recounted what little they knew about the events of the summer—Brooklyn's dad murdering her mom, her running to their house, and the Ministry sending her to live with her grandparents, who had a terrible reputation.
Angelina's face fell. "Oh my God," she whispered, pressing a hand to her chest. "Why didn't she write to us?"
"We don't know," Fred said, looking down at his shoes. "We've been worried sick."
Before anyone could say more, the sound of a commotion caught their attention. A group of students parted, and there she was—Brooklyn. She looked smaller than they remembered, her frame thinner and her posture hunched. But the biggest shock was her hair. The long, flowing blonde locks that had always seemed like a part of her identity were gone, replaced by a jagged pixie cut that looked like it had been hacked off with dull scissors.
"Brooklyn!" Fred shouted, jumping up from his spot and bounding toward her. He pulled her into a hug before she could say a word, holding her tight. "We've missed you so much."
Brooklyn hugged him back but didn't say anything. When Fred stepped back, George and Lee approached, their expressions a mix of relief and concern.
"Uh... the hair's new," Lee said, trying to sound casual but clearly curious.
Brooklyn's hand shot up to her head, and her face crumpled. Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked down, ashamed. George, always quick on his feet, stepped in. "You look like a rockstar, Brooklyn," he said brightly, trying to cheer her up. "Seriously cool."
But instead of smiling, Brooklyn's face fell further, and a tear slid down her cheek. "It's not... I didn't..."
Angelina, clearly picking up on her distress, sighed softly and stepped forward. She pulled out her wand, giving Brooklyn a small smile. "Hold still," she said gently.
Before Brooklyn could protest, Angelina waved her wand, murmuring a spell. Slowly, Brooklyn's hair grew back, cascading down her shoulders in soft, familiar curls until it was back to its original length, flowing nearly to her waist. Brooklyn touched her hair tentatively, her fingers trembling.
"Thank you, Thank you so much Angie," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "My grandmother... she said it was a distraction. She cut it off." Her voice broke, and she clenched her fists. "Everything about me is a problem to them."
Fred's jaw tightened, and George's usual easygoing demeanor vanished. "Brooklyn," George said softly, his tone unusually serious, "what's going on?"
Brooklyn hesitated, looking at her friends' concerned faces. Finally, she took a deep breath. "It's not just my hair," she admitted, her voice shaking. "Living with my grandparents... it's bad. Really bad. They're just like my dad. They... they hate me. And I think they hate my siblings too. I don't know what to do. I feel so... trapped."
The group exchanged uneasy glances, their young minds struggling to process the weight of Brooklyn's words. They didn't know what to say or how to fix it. The silence grew heavy until Lee cleared his throat, forcing a grin. "Well," he said, his tone overly bright, "Quidditch tryouts are coming up. You'd better be ready to fight for Chaser, Brooklyn."
Fred caught on quickly, grinning. "Yeah, don't think we've gone soft over the summer. We're still gonna be the best team Hogwarts has ever seen."
George smirked. "Except for you, Brooklyn. You're terrible. Practically useless on a broom."
Angelina rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. "I guess we'll have to see who's really the best this year."
Brooklyn blinked at them, and despite the ache in her chest, she felt the corners of her mouth twitch upward. "I'll wipe the floor with all of you," she said, her voice steadier than before.
The tension eased slightly as the group fell into playful banter about Quidditch, the heaviness of the moment lingering just beneath the surface. For now, though, it was enough to distract Brooklyn—and that was all her friends could offer.
The Hogwarts Express slowed to a halt at Hogsmeade Station, and the students began spilling out onto the platform, their chatter filling the cool evening air. Brooklyn lagged behind her friends, dragging her trunk as they made their way toward the carriages. Her stomach churned with unease—not at the prospect of being back at school, but at the idea of what awaited her this year. She already felt different, like she didn't quite belong anymore.
"C'mon, slowpoke!" Fred called back, his voice full of teasing warmth. "At this rate, the feast'll be over before we even get to the castle."
Brooklyn forced a weak smile and quickened her pace. When she reached the line of carriages waiting to take them up to Hogwarts, she froze. Her breath caught in her throat.
There, standing in front of the carriage nearest to her, was a creature unlike anything she'd ever seen. It was skeletal, with black, leathery skin stretched over a frame that seemed impossibly thin. Its bat-like wings twitched slightly, and its glowing white eyes stared right at her.
"Brooklyn?" George asked, waving a hand in front of her face. "You okay?"
She pointed shakily at the creature, her voice trembling. "What... what is that?"
Fred and Lee followed her gaze, but their expressions didn't change. "What's what?" Lee asked, raising an eyebrow.
Brooklyn blinked, her heart pounding. "The thing in front of the carriage!" she insisted. "You're telling me you don't see that?"
Fred tilted his head, squinting dramatically. "Unless it's an invisible monster, I'm not seeing anything," he said. "Brooklyn, are you feeling alright?"
"She's gone barmy," Lee added, shaking his head.
"I'm not crazy!" Brooklyn snapped, her voice rising. She clenched her fists, frustrated and confused. "It's right there!"
Before the boys could tease her further, Angelina stepped in. "Stop it, you lot," she said sharply, crossing her arms. She turned to Brooklyn, her expression softening. "You're seeing the Thestrals."
Brooklyn frowned. "The what?"
"They're what pull the carriages," Angelina explained. "Most people can't see them, though. Only if you've... if you've seen someone die."
The words hung in the air like a dark cloud, and the boys immediately fell silent. Fred and George exchanged a glance, guilt flashing across their faces. Lee shifted uncomfortably, looking down at his shoes.
Brooklyn swallowed hard, her throat tightening. Of course. It made sense now. She was seeing them because she'd watched her mother die. Her stomach churned, and she wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling very cold.
Angelina gave her a sympathetic look. "They're harmless," she said gently. "And my dad says they're actually kind of beautiful once you get used to them."
Brooklyn nodded, though she wasn't sure she agreed. There was something haunting about the creatures, something that made her chest ache with the weight of her memories. She glanced at Fred, George, and Lee, who were still uncharacteristically quiet.
"Sorry," Fred said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "Didn't mean to... y'know..."
"It's fine," Brooklyn said quickly, though her voice was tight. She climbed into the carriage, avoiding their eyes.
The ride up to the castle was quiet. The boys occasionally tried to crack jokes, but Brooklyn didn't respond, staring out at the rolling Scottish hills instead. She could feel their eyes on her, could sense their concern, but she didn't know how to reassure them. How could she, when she couldn't even reassure herself?
Brooklyn felt a weight pressing on her chest. She glanced out the window, her expression distant, her fingers gripping the edge of the seat tightly.
Fred noticed it first. He nudged George, tilting his head subtly toward Brooklyn. "She's quiet," he whispered.
George nodded, his brow furrowed. "Yeah... really quiet."
Even into the Great Hall for the Welcome Feast, Brooklyn remained unusually subdued. While the twins joked and Angelina and Lee laughed along, she barely said a word, only managing half-hearted smiles. She picked at her food, her eyes darting around the room as if expecting something bad to happen at any moment.
Fred and George exchanged a worried glance, silently agreeing that something wasn't right. As the feast went on, the twins grew more restless, their usual appetite waning as they stole glances at Brooklyn.
Finally, Fred couldn't take it anymore. "Come on," he whispered to George, nudging his twin. "Let's find Charlie."
The two boys slipped away from their spots at the Gryffindor table and made their way to where the seventh-years were seated. Charlie, surrounded by his friends, raised an eyebrow when he saw his brothers approaching. "What are you two up to?" he asked, setting down his goblet.
Fred and George glanced at each other before Fred spoke. "It's Brooklyn," he said, his voice unusually serious. "She's acting... different."
George nodded, his expression anxious. "She's not talking much, and she looks... stressed."
Charlie sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. He looked down the Gryffindor table, his gaze settling on Brooklyn. She was staring at her plate, barely touching her food, her shoulders hunched as if trying to make herself smaller.
Charlie's heart ached. He had hoped that being back at Hogwarts, surrounded by her friends, would help Brooklyn start to heal. But it was clear she was still carrying the weight of everything she'd been through.
He turned back to his brothers, giving them a small, sad smile. "You two are good friends," he said, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "But don't worry about her too much. Mum and I will keep an eye on things. I'll send her an owl tonight."
Fred frowned. "But—"
"Fred," Charlie interrupted gently. "She's been through more than anyone her age should have to deal with. Just... be there for her, alright? She needs her friends more than anything right now."
George looked down, his lips pressed together. "Alright," he muttered. "But it's hard not to worry."
Charlie pulled both of them into a quick hug, surprising the twins. "I know," he said quietly. "But you've got to trust me, okay? I'll let Mum know how she's doing."
The twins nodded reluctantly, and Charlie gave them a reassuring smile before sending them back to their seats. As they walked back to the Gryffindor table, Fred nudged George. "We'll keep an eye on her," he said firmly.
"Yeah," George agreed. "We won't let her go through this alone."
Back at the table, Brooklyn glanced up as the twins sat down. "Where'd you go?" she asked softly.
"Nowhere important," Fred said quickly, forcing a grin. "So, about that Quidditch match—we're still on for showing up Lee, right?"
Brooklyn managed a small smile. "Right," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Fred and George shared a look, their resolve strengthening. Whatever Brooklyn was going through, they weren't going to let her face it by herself.