Chapter Text
Molly knew the summer before the twins attended Hogwarts, would be the summer where the limits of her patience, and her mental stability, would be tested like never before. That’s not to say that the twins had been abnormally unruly or devious for the past few months, on the contrary, they seemed to be attempting to be on their utmost best behaviour, which to Arthur’s amusement, caused Molly to fret even more.
“I just know they’re planning something.” She sighed, packing her bag for her and the twins Diagon trip that afternoon.
She had made some egg-salad sandwiches the night before and wrapping them in some spare cloth and casting a quick charm to keep them fresh, dropped them in the bag, along with a few sweets for when the boys got peckish, or more likely for when she needed something to nibble on to calm her nerves.
“You know what I think?” Arthur smiled, tugging on his traveling cap as he crossed the room to drop a kiss on her cheek, bumping his nose against hers as he pulled back. “I think we just ought to enjoy the quite.”
Molly huffed, trying not to roll her eyes at her sweet husband.
“Perhaps they’re just too excited for Hogwarts to even bother with being the little devils they normally are. And besides Mollywobbles,” Arthur gripped her shoulders, gently tugging her to face him and crouched down to meet her avoidant eyes, a feat in itself seeing as he towered nearly a foot about his wife, “they’re only home one more week come Friday.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, her cheeks reddening at the touch. “What harm can they do in a week?”
Fred and George were perhaps the most brilliant children Molly had ever met, and despite their devious antics and tricky schemes, at their core they were still good children, not always the best brothers – especially to Ron – but they loved their siblings still. And despite everything, Fred and George were only just children.
“I can only imagine.” Molly sighed as Arthur leaned in for another kiss, Molly swatting at his chest, forcing to take a small step back, chuckling as he did. “Honestly Arthur, you’ll be late if you keep this up.”
“Seems like a fair reason.” He agreed, but not before stealing one last kiss as the rest of the Weasley hoard rumbled down the stairs.
“Watch it you two.” Scolded Charlie as he rounded the corner into the kitchen looking like a mother hen; Ginny in his arms, Ron and Percy right behind him, and the twins just in front. “We were having trouble with their shoes.” He explained.
“As is we were having trouble getting them to wear their own shoes.” Percy added. “Kept trying to wear one of the others’.”
With her bag all packed and Arthur having already left out the door towards the garden, Molly grabbed the twins’ hands and shuffled them towards the floo.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright dear? We could wait till when your father would be home.” Molly asked, taking a long look at her four other children.
“We’ll be alright mum, really.” Said Percy, glasses slightly slipping down his long nose, Charlie laughing and nodding along.
“Really mum,” Charlie continued, “with them two gone it’ll be a breeze.”
“Well, if you’re sure.” She sighed, grabbing a handful of floo powder and instructing Fred and George to do the same. “Tea is in the kitchen. We’ll be back before it gets dark.”
With a throw of powder and a shout, the three of them disappeared.
“Honestly mum, it’s not like they’re gunna burn the house down.” Grinned Fred as he turned around to see his already exasperated mother.
They had been shopping for near three hours and Molly was wound tighter than her knitting, fretting over the twins while simultaneously worrying about the children back at home. She had both Charlie and Percy’s school lists tucked in her pocket and had just finished haggling with the potions master at The Apothecary for Charlie’s N.E.W.T level potions ingredients.
“Yeah, it was only once, and it all stayed in the kitchen, though Errol’s feathers were singed for weeks.” Continued George.
“I’d just like to get home before anything has the chance of happening, is all that I was saying.” Molly quickened her pace, passing the two boys, as she rounded the corner to Flourish and Blotts. “If only your father hadn’t gotten called in. Honestly, it’s as if no one else works in that department, always calling him no matter the time or day.” Molly sighed.
While she would never say anything to Arthur, he loved his job, she sometimes wished he worked somewhere else, somewhere that would at least give him better hours, or a more normal schedule.
“And we have to buy two copies of the standard book of spells after Charlie destroyed his, doing Merlin knows what.” She continued, perusing the twins’ list. “You’d think him being best friends with Hufflepuffs he’d not be so reckless.” The twins grinned at each other, well aware of Charlie’s antics with his friends at school; Charlie was far more a troublemaker then his prefect badge would indicate.
“Not to mention that you both are taller and thinner than Bill or Charlie, so new robes are in order. Oh, I wish your father could have come instead.” She moaned.
George’s face fell.
“Mum, Fred and I don’t really need new robes. We could always share.” He offerend.
“Yeah, and I wouldn’t mind wearing one of Bill or Charlie’s.” Fred smiled, wrapping his arm around George’s shoulder, who grinned in return. “Don’t you know the oversized look is in?”
Their mother stopped walking and turned around.
“Now look here you two, you are about to start your first year at Hogwarts and that’s a time for celebration, so of course you’re going to get some new robes and books; It’s what you both deserve.” She said sternly. “Good? Good.”
The sun was already starting to set as Molly and the boys made their way out of Madam Malkin’s. After being measured, poked with pins, and constantly reminded to stand still, both boys were tired and ready to go home.
“How much more mum?” Fred asked, peaking over the pile of books he carried. With the added cost of two school lists, Molly chose to take all of their purchases with them, rather than paying the extra to owl directly to the burrow.
“Just Ollivander’s.” She said, tucking her purse back into her robs and stretching out her parcel free arms. “Oh my!” She exclaimed looking at the slowly darkning sky. “Is it that late already? Let’s hurry up. I do hope your father is home.”
As they made their way down the winding cobblestone path to Ollivander’s, the grey door swung open revealing a pair of rather serious looking people; a tall man with dark eyes and a short silver haired woman, and behind them, a small girl with long dark hair clutching her new wand close to her chest. Her parents turned to continue down the street, away from the approaching Weasleys, but the little girl was too caught up in her own world to notice.
Hearing voices drawing closer, she turned to look at the boisterous twins as they chatted loudly over their stacks of books and rolling her eyes, turned away and ran after her parents.
Fred and George, entering the shoppe before their mother, dropped their parcels on the floor by the door and made their way to the counter where the old wizard stood backed by rows and rows of wands just waiting for their match.
“Molly Weasley!” Ollivander greeted. “Some more of your brood I assume?”
“Hello Ollivander.” Molly smiled an easy smile. “Yes, this is Fred,” she claimed, coming up to the counter and placing her hand on the shoulder of the twin to her right, “and the other is George.”
“Nice to meet you Fred, George.”
The boy on the right reached out his hand. “Actually, I’m George.” He grinned.
Molly blanched.
Well, she thought, I suppose it has been quite a long day afterall.
“Oh, are you?” Laughed Ollivander, his eyes shining, flittering between the two boys before him. “So, I assume both of you are here for wands?” He asked, rubbing his hands together in thought.
They nodded excitedly; this had been what they were most looking forward to, what every 11-year-old witch or wizard looked forward to the most. Finding their wand. There was nothing like it, it was said, getting your own wand. And while the Weasley family had a tendency to pass down wands if necessary, seeing as there weren’t two readily available for both Fred and George, they would get their very own from Ollivander’s.
“I thought so.”
Turning his back to the group, Ollivander summoned two boxes from the upper shelves, blowing on them to remove the years of dust.
“Now these wands are made from the same oak tree, the same branch in fact, though different cores. This is dragon,” he said to the boy who introduced himself as George, “and this, this one is unicorn.”
Fred took the wand offered him and eagerly flicked his hand, causing it to fly across the room and stick itself into the opposite wall, narrowly missing the top of Ollivander’s head. Shocked, George tentatively raised his, only for it to make a large cracking sound and for smoke to start coming from the tip where it glowed a dull ashy orange. Ollivander quickly snatched the two away, muttering to himself about how those were obviously not right.
“I bet you two need wands with the same cores, yes, quite. The same cores, being twins and all. Most twins do.” Ollivander called as he made his way to the back of the store.
Molly shuffled her weight slightly from foot to foot.
Her brothers, Fabian and Gideon, had wands with the same cores. Though it might not mean much of anything; Ollivander himself had said so, most twins need wands with the same cores.
Fabian and Gideon weren’t like most twins.
Fred and George would be.
Molly turned her attention back to the shoppe keeper as he pulled out the two new wands. “Both dragon heartstrings, both dogwood, for those of a playful nature. Good for the flamboyant spells.” He winked.
The boys grinned at each other and grabbing for the wands waved them, but nothing happen. Turning back to the old wizard, they both started to laugh, for now Ollivander was now sporting shoulder length bright red Weasley coloured hair. Molly even found herself holding back a laugh; with that mop he looked as if he could be a part of the family tree.
“I’m not sure this is the right look for me.” He claimed, looking in a small mirror that hung against the iron staircase, and grabbing his own wand transfigured his hair back to its original state. He took back the wands, and sighed. “I was quite sure about those two you know. However, even I am wrong sometimes.”
Tapping his chin, he looked over at Molly, face pulled deep in thought.
“I don’t suppose? It could be, perhaps?” He whispered just loud enough for her to hear, and slowly made his way up the long iron staircase, stopping at a section of dark red boxes with light blue labels tacked on.
Leaning against the banister, he reached out, pulling from the wall a single box. It was old and dust covered, but hardly worn; from where Molly stood, she could hardly see a nick or scratch on the box. Lifting the lid, he removed two wands and held them up to the light. “Ebony.” He said, gesturing towards Fred. “And Fir.” He claimed as he held the other towards George. “Dragon heartstring, the both of them.” Ollivander’s eyes flickered towards her before returning back to the twins. “The same heartstring. Just the one, split in two. The only two wands ever made from that great beast.”
Molly felt her chest constrict, as if their air in the room had grown heavy, harder to breath in, suffocating her.
She had gone with her mother and father when her brothers found their wands; they were apple and holly, she remembered; Gideon’s was slightly longer and Fabian’s had a bit of decoration at the bottom, nothing unusual or extraordinary about either. But what made those wands special was that they possessed a dragon heartstring, the very same dragon heartstring, split in two.
She remembered the look on her parents’ faces, a mixture of pride and pity and fear, a look she didn’t understand at the time, a look she was sure was now etched on her very own face.
Carefully, Ollivander handed the two boys the wands, and as he did a warm gentle breeze blew through the shoppe as the wands’ tips lit up like fireworks, shooting bright sparks of white and red that surrounded them both.
“Brilliant!” Cried Fred, dragging Molly’s attention away from the old man towards her children.
“Fantastic!” Agreed George, spinning around under the pops of colour.
“It is always good to see when a wand chooses a wizard. Especially two at the same time.” He smiled, eyes crinkling at the sides.
Wands carefully placed back in the box and tucked into Molly’s bag, for as much as they boys wanted to carry their wands home, they had far too many other parcels to do so, Molly ushered the boys out the door to wait for her as she pulled her purse from the pocket of her robes, counting out the fourteen galleons.
“Just seven.” Ollivander said, shaking his head as he pushed back the extra galleons across the counter.
“It’s two wands Ollivander. Fourteen galleons. I know your prices.” She huffed, pushing the offending coins back.
“One core, one wand.” He shook his head again, ignoring the extra coins and popping just the seven into his till.
Molly sighed and pocketed the rest, shoving her purse back into her cloak and quickly spinning on her heels, ready to leave the shoppe behind.
“They’re just like your brothers, aren’t they?”
Molly stopped, wiping away an errant tear as it ran down her right cheek before turning around.
“I hope not.” She smiled a watery smile.
“There was, is, a companion to their wands.” He admitted. “Made from the heartstring of that dragon’s mate, just as her’s was.”
Molly’s thoughts jumbled, racing about. Flashes of memory danced in her mind, yelling at her, the noise near deafening. Then –
“I’ve sold it.”
Silence.
“Did you see the popping pimple patch in the window at Gambol and Japes?” said Fred, dusting the ash off his sweater.
The group had just flooed back to the burrow, and Molly was currently sat on the couch taking an inventory of their new school supplies, separating out the potions ingredients into piles for each of the boys.
“Keeps growing till it explodes once you stick it one someone’s face. Reckon next time we’re there, we get some and put it on Charlie when he’s getting his beauty rest. Imagine he’d freak out when he wakes up, right Georgie?”
George nodded, but wasn’t really listening for instead he was watching his mother, discomforted by how quiet she had been since leaving Ollivander’s. There had been a strange look in her eyes in the shoppe, George had noticed as he turned around brandishing his new wand for the first time. He had expected her to look excited for them, but she hadn’t even really been looking at them, and when she did, she looked sad.
“Is everything alright mum?” George asked, coming to collect his pile of school supplies to take up to his and Fred’s room.
“Quite alright dear.” She answered, looking up. “Just tired, and in need of a good cup of tea.” She reached out and patted his head, hoping to wipe away the worry on his brow. “Why don’t you two head upstairs and drop your things off. Then after, well heat up the supper your dad made, alright?”
Seeming to accept her answer, George nodded and grabbing all his stuff, ran up the staircase, Fred just behind.
Arthur had arrived home ahead of his wife and thus had set the kettle to boil and started on some food. And while he was no Molly, Arthur was not completely ignorant in the kitchen, and in a pinch, could make a mean spaghetti bolognese.
“Oh Arthur, thank you!” Molly sighed as he entered the sitting room with a steaming hot cup and an orange biscuit. She breathed in the comforting aroma of the ginger tea, and leaned back into the soft sofa, allowing the pillows to surround her in a bed of fluff.
“Sorry I was called in Molly.” Arthur said, throwing his arm around the back of the couch.
He had wanted to go with her and boys to get their wands, that way the whole family could have a little outing, but work called, and despite the terrible hours and his negligible boss, Arthur loved his work.
“Honestly,” He continued, “I think those who do the raids should do the categorizing, but you know the ministry. Red tape everywhere.” He sighed, Molly humming along as he traced the tips of his fingers down her arm. “But Charlie seemed to handle things well enough. Errol’s still in one piece after all.” He chortled.
Noticing that his small joke didn’t seem to lighten his wife’s mood, he moved his hand and placed in on her back, rubbing comforting circles over the thin fabric of her printed dress. “All right there love? You’re rather quiet.”
Molly took a big gulp of her tea.
“I’ve just been thinking a lot about Fabian and Gideon lately.” She admitted.
Arthur nodded; he knew that her brothers’ deaths still weighed heavy in her heart. When she didn’t continue, he hugged her tightly.
“Is this about Fred and George?” He asked, knowing he was right when he felt her stiffen beneath his hand. “They were brave men, and they died fighting for what they believed in, but that’s got nothing to do with our sons.”
Molly sniffled and shifted away from her husband, his hand falling to the seat of the sofa. She shook her head and place the cup and biscuit on the side table, turning to face towards her husband.
“You know that’s not true.” She breathed out. “They died because of their magic.”
Arthur shook his head.
“Molly, it was war –”
“Yes, it was war, but even if they had survived the battle, they still would have died. You know that. You saw that, as did I.” Grabbing her husband’s hands and tracing her fingers along his knuckles she continued. “When she died, part of them died. The only thing keeping them going was their will to fight against You-Know-Who.”
Molly and Arthur sat in silence, recalling the dark circles beneath the twin’s eyes, their gaunt stature and pale skin in the weeks after her murder. The thought of the pain they carried in their hearts after she was gone haunted their memories.
“What has this to do with Fred and George?” Arthur laughed unhumorously.
Oh, he lamented. Were Fred and George the same as their uncles? Were their fates tied not just together, but two a third?
He had a feeling the moment the twins were born that they were different, the looks in Fabian’s and Gideon’s eyes told him they thought the same. He hadn’t understood much about the bond between the two of them, the bond they shared with her, Marlene, not until the bond was gone. But know he wished he had some intimate knowledge of it, if only to have glimpse of something – anything – to help his sons.
“Oh Arthur!” She cried, throwing herself into her arms, tucking her face into his neck. “I don’t want to believe it.” She mumbled.
He held her close, muttering sweet nothings into her ear, comforting thoughts that the twins – and their other – would be fine, safe, protected. He muttered that things were different now, that there was nothing to fear. All the while, he himself fearing the worst for his two young boys now sat happily in kitchen eating their pasta, unaware that their world had changed.
They stepped out onto platform 9 ¾ exactly 30 minutes before the train was scheduled to leave the station. Grace couldn’t remember a time in her, all be it relatively short, life that her parents had been late to anything; it was rude, and simply not done.
“This place has gone under since we were here last.” Dominique scoffed, nose up as she looked around the station. “It’s like there is more and more of, those types, every year.”
“Perhaps.” Agreed Lowrance.
Dominique and Lowrance Zastra stood far away from the rest of the crowd, all the better spot to see and be seen. They made a handsome couple in the way their looks differed from the other so strikingly. Lowrance was tall and slender, with an almost sickly pale complexion and eyes a deep brown they were almost black. His dark hair was shorn close to his head, making his cheekbones and jaw look ever sharper. His wife was near a foot shorter, but just as strangely beautiful. Dominique’s face was round with full lips and a soft jaw, her shoulders tapering down gradually, not an angle or sharp corner to be seen in her figure. Her silver hair was pinned up and away from her face, not a single strand out of place, pulling the skin around her hairline tight. Her eyes, a striking light blue, looked out of place in her face, too harsh for the rest of her features.
Their daughter stood a few steps in front of them, pretending to look around the station with mild disinterest, but the bouncing of her feet gave away her excitement. She had the same soft look of her mother, though her nose was a bit sharper, her lips a bit more pinched, but the colouring of her father, his deep brown eyes and midnight coloured hair. Her long straight hair brushed to the middle of her back, a bow tied neatly across her crown.
They looked ever the picture perfect pure-blood family.
“Graciela.” Her mother called, beckoning her turn around and come closer.
“Yes?” She asked, prying her attention from a large loud family who had just passed through the barrier.
“Remember to behave yourself.” Dominique emphasized.
Grace had to stop herself from rolling her eyes, her mother had already given her this lecture over breakfast, and simply nodded along.
“Be your good little self and make our family and the house of Slytherin proud.” Her mother smiled, patting Grace on her cheek.
“I promise.” Grace agreed.
Dominique was perhaps even more exited for Grace to be heading off to Hogwarts than Grace herself was. Firstly, it meant that her house would be far less noisy than it had been when an 11-year-old had been running around and secondly, it meant that her daughter would soon be growing into the person Dominique had always planned she would be.
She had taught her well, Dominique thought to herself, but Grace was soft and some lessons were better learned by peers than by parents. Hopefully her time at Hogwarts would push her in the right direction.
“Here.” Lowrance’s low tone broke through her thoughts. He pulled out a small, neatly wrapped package, pressing it into his daughter’s waiting hands.
“What is it?” She asked excitedly, waiting for the go ahead before tearing into the paper.
“Open it and see.” His lips twitched into, what for him was, a smile.
With as much patience as an 11-year-old could possess, she tore into her present and lifting top, pulled out a small but beautiful glass snake.
“It’s lovely.” She awed, holding it up to the light, watching as a rainbow of colours reflected off it. “Thank you.” She said genuinely, holding the precious figurine close to her chest.
The train whistle sounded, causing Grace to jump slightly, turning around to see families quickly making their way to the train doors. Shoving the snake into the bag she had slung across her shoulders, she made her way towards the boarding crowd, trunk already placed on the train, as her parents followed a short distance behind.
She watched as all around her families hugged their children goodbye, wishing them a good term as the students in turned promised to be home for Christmas. Looking at her own parents, Grace smiled softly.
“Goodbye.” Was all her father said, her mother only nodding in reply.
Not letting her parents’ behaviour bother her, it was their norm, she nodded back and climbed up the short stair case and turned right down the corridor, not looking back.
Arthur took the four boys to Kings Cross Station as Molly stayed at home with Ginny and Ron. It had been no small feat getting everyone organized this morning; Molly was in a state, Ron having developed a small fever overnight, and with Fred and George removing all of the yolks and whites from inside the egg shells, one last prank for their family to remember them by, breakfast was a disaster. The contents of the eggs were eventually found, and with the family washed and fed, everyone headed on their way.
“All right lads, let’s go. Hurry up.” Arthur called as he led his children through the crowded station.
With the entrance to the platform in sight, Charlie ran ahead and passed through the barrier, followed shortly by Percy, the cage of his pet rat jolting precariously as he did. The twins came to a stop and glanced at each other.
“I supposed I should go first.” Said Fred.
“Why not me?” Asked George.
“Born first?” Fred called back as he ran towards the wall and disappeared.
“All right Georgie?” Arthur asked as he looked down at the boy.
He could tell his son was slightly nervous, but not one to be shown up by his twin, George simply nodded and ran towards the barrier, followed closely by his father. Smoked engulfed him as he passed through, the train whistle blowing loudly, and made his way towards his sons. Fred and George were looking about, taking in the chaos that surrounded them. Percy watched amusedly as a myriad of expressions of wonder and excitement filtered across their faces. Charlie was also looking around, and apparently having spotted exactly what he was looking for, turned around to his father.
“Dad, I see Penny. Gunna make my way over.” Charlie said pointing towards a blonde girl standing in a small group.
“Sure Charlie.” Arthur nodded, pulling his son into a hug. “Have a good term.”
“Thanks dad.” Charlie smiled, grabbing his trunk and running towards his friends who were waving excitedly at him.
“Now boys,” Arthur said, attempting a stern – his smile gave him away – getting the attention of Fred and George. “Don’t give your professors too much trouble. I know how you can be with the pranks, just try to be more careful. Don’t want any letters home from McGonagall in the first month telling me that you’re making a ruckus and that you’ve got yourselves into detention.”
“Got it.” Said Fred. “No making a ruckus during the first month.”
“Though we can’t promise the same after that.” Continued George.
Sighing, Arthur ruffled Fred’s hair, and looked around.
“Looks like their boarding boys, best get on. Take care of your brothers Percy”
“Of course.” He nodded, puffing out his chest, feeling proud that his responsible nature was being acknowledged.
Arthur pulled the twins, and a reluctant Percy, into a massive hug, telling them how much he would miss them, and how he couldn’t wait to hear all about their term when they came home. With a final squeeze, he pulled back and pushed them to head towards the train. The three of them dropped off their trunks and made way through the crowd.
“Hey,” George said, stopping in front of a compartment. “Isn’t that the girl from Ollivander’s? The one who was leaving when we got there?”
Fred peered inside. Two fellow first year sat there; he could tell by the lack of house colour on their robes.
“Looks like it. Might as well say hi.” Fred opened the door and stepped in. “Mind if we join you two?”
The two occupants of the compartment looked up.
Flashing a bright smile, the boy answered.
“Not at all. I’m Lee Jordan.”
Extending out his hand, Fred shook it happily and sat down next to him.
“And this is Grace.” Lee said, pointing to the girl.
“We’re you the two outside of Ollivander’s? Could have sworn I’ve seen you before.” She asked, eyeing them as George took the seat next to her.
She shifted slightly, giving him space on the seat, but oblivious to her actions, he plopped down nearly on top of her, arms brushing before she pulled back, pressing herself closer to the window.
Her face heated up for just a moment, not use to the close contact. Her parents weren’t exactly affectionate people; she could count on a single hand how many times her father had hugged her, her mother even less.
“Mmh.” George answered. “I’m George, and this here is my less handsome brother Fred.”
“Fred Weasley, at your service.” He said with a wink.
“How can one of you be more handsome than the other. You’re nearly identical.” Grace huffed, crossing her arms.
“Nearly identical?” Laughed Fred.
“We are identical.” Continued George
“Works well in our favour.” Agreed Fred.
“Can’t get in trouble if you don’t know which one’s which.” Added George.
“You two are a riot.” Smiled Lee, already planning on becoming best friends with the mischievous twins.
Grace just rolled her eyes, pretending to not enjoy their playful banter, but secretly she did. It was unlike anything she was used; they were not at all serious like her parents or their friends often were. Nor were they like the children her parents forced her to spend time with, those whose every action felt calculated, planned. They were, simply put, authentically jovial.
She looked over the twins again. At first glance one might assume that they really were identical; the seemed to have the same eyes, the same mouth, the same hair. But there was something, something that Grace couldn’t quite put her foot on that made them look, just ever so – really almost impossible to notice – different. Their eyes were both the colour of amber honey, the kind she like to spread on her morning toast, but the one who had introduced himself as George had flecks of dark brown just around his pupil. It made his eyes look sadder, deeper, than his brother’s.
The one who called himself Fred seemed to be sporting a perpetual grin, the right side of his lips tweaked up ever so slightly, like he was always just waiting for the next joke. It made him look happy, she thought, but it also made him look just a bit terrifying, like she could never know what he’d do next.
After devouring more candy than he had ever eaten, Lee leaned back, rubbing his stomach. The floor was littered with candy wrappers bought from the trolly, curtesy of Grace and Lee, and the foil that had been wrapped around Fred and George’s homemade corned beef sandwiches. Grace had to admit they were quite good; George had ripped off a bit for her to have.
“So what house are you hoping to be placed in?”
“Gryffindor of course.” Fred popped a Bertie Bott Bean in his mouth. “The rest of our family is, so why wouldn’t we be. Course…”
“Ravenclaw wouldn’t be terrible.” George said, finishing his brother’s thought.
Lee hummed, following along with the twins.
“My mum was in Hufflepuff, so I suppose that wouldn’t be too bad either.” He said, pulling on one of his dreadlocks with slightly sticky hands.
“Hufflepuff. Gryffindor. Anything’s better than Slytherin.” Said Fred, digging through the box of candy beans, searching for a more appetizing flavour than the rotten egg he had just had. Popping in a light orange one that he hoped was marmalade, Fred turned to Grace. “What about you?”
“Well, I…”
“Ugh!” Interrupted Fred, spitting out his half-eaten jelly bean. “Tripe.”
“Nasty.” Replied Lee, scrunching up his face.
“What house do you want Grace?” Asked George.
He sounded genuinely curious, Grace thought. How strange, to be genuinely curious about the opinions of someone you hardly knew. She looked down at her hands, an unfamiliar sense of nervousness washing over her. Slytherin, she ought to say. It was what was planned, since her birth. She knew she would be a Slytherin. She was born to be a Slytherin. She had to be a Slytherin.
She wondered if she wanted to be a Slytherin.
“Well, I suppose any house really. I don’t think it’s for me to guess.” She answered politically.
“Yeah.” Lee leaned forward. “But if you had to choose?”
“What about your parents?” Asked George. “They’re magic, aren’t they?” He looked down at her clothing; yup definitely magic.
“What house were they in?” Continued Fred, not allowing her time to answer. “Probably would like if you were the same. Know mum and dad would be chuffed if all of us ended up Gryffindor.”
The three boys leaned in, eager to hear Grace’s answer. Feeling crowded and overwhelmed, she desperately wished for a hole to open up in the cushion beneath her and swallow her whole, but to her great disappointment, nothing happened. As she opened her mouth to respond, a sharp knock came from their compartment door.
“Charlie!” Greeted the twins. “Lee, Grace, this is our brother Charlie.”
“Nice to see you two have made friends.” Grinned Charlie. “We’re almost to the castle, just going around to make sure everyone has changed into their robes.” Eyeing the group in their everyday attire, he crossed his arms. “So, I suggest you all get on that.”
Charlie stood in the doorway, eyebrow raised, waiting for a response. The group nodded their heads, and Charlie seemingly please, closed the compartment door and headed on his way.
The group looked at each other and laughed, moving to change into their robes as the train began its descent into the station.