Chapter Text
“And are you sure that you’ve grabbed everything you’re gonna need for school?” Alice asked timidly. Her swollen ankles make her teeter in her high heels. Their sharp click-clacks were all my ears could hear despite the bustle of an England train station. Paper boys shouting, newspapers blowing past in the Western Europe Wind, the sky that I could see through the windows a muddy gray color, rather than the sunny American skies I was used to. While my mind should’ve been on the journey ahead all I could focus on was Alice and her click clacking.
I did my best not to roll my eyes, Alice was sweet, really. Sweet like a pastry. Warm and flaky, but it crumbles all over your jeans and leaves you feeling bad about your weight. What? Am I not allowed to be annoyed that she had a 25 inch waist after giving birth to two of my step-siblings, and third on the way? I was just as happy as the next girl to get a new little sibling- step sister or otherwise. And I’m sure that I would love Garnet when she was born (yes Garnet). But Alice acting like my actual mom was getting on my nerves. I made my way further into the busy station.
“Yes Alice, we made sure of that last night when you triple checked my luggage.” I replied sharply.
“Amiah…” My Dad warned me, dragging the lavender baggage that I couldn’t hold. My arms were pretty full with my bags, not to mention the backpack I was wearing. I could see other families around us whose children were off to boarding school. I played a little game in my head, guessing who would be my classmates, not excited over the first day of school because they’d known magic all of their lives and who were just regular kids dreading regular school. I was jealous of those who had grown up around magic, but I couldn’t exactly blame my father for all of that.
I suppressed the sigh, “But I appreciate you caring.” And I meant that, Alice was a sweet lady. But right now the only thing on my mind was the hole in my pocket that my wand was burning. I hadn’t casted a spell in so long and I was itching to do so. My fingers twitched at the idea of a single, acio notebook . But first I had to get the hell away from my parents. And the oak sign to my freedom was right in front of my eyes like a glowing light saying OPEN to your favorite restaurant.
I could see it there. The 9 ⅓ sign was made of a dull dark wood but in my mind it was sparkling bronze. Like a port key that would sharply pull me into a new world and away from the problems of my own. We were almost to the platform when I felt a sharp tug on my arm. I looked down to see two pairs of big green eyes looking up at me and sticky hands grasping my many bracelets.
“Miah- how long are you gonna be away?” Dove and Winter questioned, in unison no less. Yes you heard the names right, my family doesn’t have a stellar track record when it comes to normal baby names. I looked down at the twins.
“I’ll be back by Christmas okay?” The four year olds sighed and rolled their eyes in unison. And although I would never tell them- I was totally gonna miss the dweebs. Sure we looked nothing alike. Where my skin was dark, theirs was fair. Where my hair grew in auburn curls theirs was a straight strawberry blonde. We were pretty different physically, but we all had a penchant for pranking Alice and my Dad. Whether it be replacing the white creme in cookies with toothpaste or pretending one of us broke a bone. I’m not sure if I was going to Hogwarts to learn magic or to get off of their backs.
I could hear parents around me telling their kids they would have to leave soon to get to Hogsmead. My eyes were drawn to a crop of redheads accompanied by a dark haired boy. I could see a girl who looked a bit younger than me furrowing her eyebrows as an older brother pulled on her braid. Their mother quickly began shouting at someone named Ron to stop. Judging by their robes and looking over their shoulders I assumed they were wizards. A taller redhead taking out a smooth wooden wand confirmed my suspicions. It was quickly snatched from him by the short woman I think was their mother. I couldn’t see his face or truly make out his words, only a fraction of a smirk and the rumble of a laugh. He tossed his head back in a way that made his red hair shake like a lion’s mane. It was vexingly captivating. Strangely enough, the sound of it made me want to laugh too.
A smile played at my lips, it had been a while since I’d laughed with another person like that. Head tossed back like nobody’s watching and if they are, give em a show - laugh. Not since my mom was still around, which is to say, too long. She flashed through my mind in a flicker. The reddish brown curls, the dark skin, the blinding smile. I permitted a breathy laugh to escape, not because I really thought anything was funny, more so of shock. When I think of my mom I have to laugh, otherwise I’m not sure what I’ll do. I don’t think it would be good.
My thoughts were cut short by the red haired boy stiffening slightly and sharply turning my way. Before his eyes could meet mine I turned to face my family again, I counted the seconds. One… two… three… I turned around and he was looking right at me. Lips turning up to a smirk that was cocky and humble all at once. My stomach clenched at the sight of his sure smile, like we were old friends. I’m not afraid of anything, but I found myself ripping my eyes away from his before the interaction could go on. I could still feel his eyes on me, it must’ve been my imagination, but I couldn’t shake the feeling.
Thoughts of the red headed boy dissipated from my mind as Alice grabbed my arm and pulled me in for a tight hug and started going on about how she would need a photo of all of us. She wrinkled her nose at my outfit. “Do you have to dress like such a...witch?”
I could’ve laughed at how close she came to hitting the mark on that one. Dad had made me promise that I wouldn’t let his new wife know about my...special capabilities. Alice was a Puerto Rican Catholic, who kept her children’s eyes shielded from even Halloween showings of Hocus Pocus for fear of it converting her babies to “La Brujeria”. And she was less than enthralled when she found out I drove them to the movies to watch it behind her back. So yeah, the tension between us was more than your typical step mother and daughter relationship, even if Alice wasn’t always aware of that. Consider that I had to make Tres Leches cake from scratch for the church bake sale, when I could easily pull out a wand and do it in minutes. But no! The new Mrs. Alice Foster could not be subject to my horrible secret.
Strangely enough all her Catholic morals about divorce and infidelity seemed to melt away from her icy exterior when she met my Dad. A successful architect who was spending his new retirement practicing art, making fun of Hallmark Rom-Coms and politely averting eye contact with the Bible-thumpers in front of grocery stores. Life was something close to predictable until Alice showed up on our front door. Sand colored skin, glossy telenovela curls (don’t judge me, Maria la del Barrio was a classic), and bright button eyes staring at my Father all too intently for someone who just wanted to know if we had “heard of her savior Jesus Christ”. The next thing I know I’m getting stuffed into a pastel dress and listening to Alice complain on her wedding day about me being my Father’s “best man”. My dad thought it was cute, but he told me to stand by Alice in the photos.
I know my Dad wasn’t ashamed of me, he was just worried about the magic. He had seen what it did to my mom towards the end, it’s hard to tell the difference between what’s real when living with a person who can literally alter reality. But that didn’t stop me from feeling as shitty as I did. I shook out the thoughts and gave my outfit a once over.
An off the shoulder black sweater, with a bralette peeking out just to send Alice over the edge a little, ripped jeans and combat boots. Yes, I’m sure the combat boots gave away my casting ability. It wasn’t like half the girls in America were dressed in a similar way. Granted, it was still warm back home, here in London it was at least 50 degrees. And while I might’ve been more than slightly cold as the chilly winds kissed my shoulders. There was no way in hell I’d let Alice know she was right and I was wrong. So I stayed quiet.
“Thank you” my dad mouthed over Alice’s head, which was pretty easy as she was 5’4. My Dad, Erin however, was 6’2 , with his loose brown curls and colored skin a few sunkissed shades darker than Alice. Basically he looked like Hippie Jesus.And although I wouldn’t be mistaken for half giant anytime soon, I was still pretty tall at 5’9. We turned in towards each other for a photo, he tugged on my sweater sleeve and pulled me in. The curls of his beard tickled my ear. “Hey kid. I’m gonna miss you okay?”
I pulled away and squinted my eyes at him. Admittedly, I was going to miss the guy, and I knew that he and Alice and Dove and Winter would all miss me too. But that didn’t stop the feeling at the pit of my stomach telling me that if I left it would be best for everyone. That if I left we wouldn’t have the moments when my mom’s absence was so blatantly obvious. That if I left I wouldn’t feel like dead weight.
The early mornings when my Dad would do a double take because for a second his missing ex-wife was back in his kitchen before he realized it was me. Or when I had to scrounge through dusty boxes in the attic for a picture of my family before the divorce. Before Alice had to compete with a seventeen year old girl for attention. Before my Dad had to choose between my guitar recital or the twin’s ballet performance. Back when I cried on my mom's shoulder instead of into a pillow. Having divorced parents was tough, but having divorced parents and a mother who's been missing? The past years have felt like walking on a nest of Hungarian Horntail Eggs. One wrong move and the family would go up in smoke.
I mustered up a convincing fake smile as Alice brought up the camera. Her arms were so short, both my head and my Dads were cut off. My Dad smiled good naturedly and brought out his phone, this time cutting off the twins faces. When I tried a photo from my angle we all had to awkwardly squish together.We faltered for a second, and nervously laughed. If we waited any longer I’d be late for the train. I looked at my shoes and took a breath, it seemed like as long I was around they were worse off. I clenched my jaw and held my breath, making a dam to hold back any tears.
“I’ll take care of that for you.” a deep voice cut into my increasingly dark thoughts. I looked up from the brick to see none other than the redheaded boy, plucking my phone out of my black fingerless gloves and into his brown gloved ones.
Before I could protest Alice began thanking him, “Aww such a sweet boy!” I furrowed my brows just as he flashed the camera. Alice grabbed the phone from him and smiled down at the photo. Her green eyes widened in surprise, “Oh and look! Amiah looks angry, it’s perfect!” She, my Dad and the boy laughed while I ran my tongue across my teeth.
He smiled at me, I didn’t say a word.
“Are you going to platform 9 ⅓ too.” He asked, I was taken aback. How did he know?
“Yes she is! Are you a student at Hogwarts Prep too?” Alice asked excitedly.
The boy cocked his head to the side, “Prep?” He asked, clearly confused. Behind Alice, Dad and I were furiously nodding our heads and giving thumbs up signs. As far as Alice knew, I was leaving the states to attend a fancy Prep school that would get me a good scholarship.
The boy’s eyes widened as he caught on, surprisingly quickly at that. “Oh yes yes Hogwarts Prep, the school that exists… and I definitely attend.” I was immediately self concious of my American accent. He had one of those cute British ones, no- not cute, not cute. I pushed away any kind thoughts about him.
“That’s great,” Alice cooed. “Then he can walk you to the train.” I turned towards my dad. Eyes flashing with clear ingidinance. This sounded like a total ploy to get me kidnapped. But much to my dismay my dad and Alice both seemed on board. And the boy was already waving his family off towards the train.
“Hello? We don’t even know him!” I shouted. Who the hell was this guy? To just run in with his long legs, take my phone and start flashing around this confident smile. Who even does that. I turned to the twins.
“C’mon guys stranger danger right?” I cross my fingers that one of those seminars they gave kindergarteners would pay off. But naturally I wasn’t so lucky.
“He’s not a stranger!” Dove chirped happily.
“Yeah, he gave us candy!” Winter chimed in, waving a brightly colored sucker in the air.
I snatched the candy out of their sticky fingers. “Guys,do not take candy from strangers! That’s rule number one! You don’t even know his name.” I swear this family would fall apart without me around.
“His name is Mr. Red!” They said in unison, man it gave me a headache when they did that. Hopefully I wouldn’t endure it anymore once I got to school.
“Mr. Red?” I cocked an eyebrow at the boy. You’d think he’d come up with a better fake name if he was gonna kidnap children..
“It’s Fred,” He stuck out his hand. “Fred Weasley.”
“Amiah Foster, but everyone calls me Miah,” I shook it cautiously. “Are you always this friendly when you first meet someone?”
“Only when they look like you.” Fred gave a cheshire grin that reminded me all too much of another person who smiled brazenly just before they left. A carefree smile that should’ve been appealing but instead made me angry. The type of smile that never takes people seriously. All too familiar to Mom. Nothing but trouble could come out of a smile like that.
I try hard not to resent her. It’s always more confusing than anything else. All that she left were a few trunks full of magic trinkets and books, but no magic mother to teach me what to do with them. She told my Dad she had to go back to her old school and find something she had left. She said she’d be back. My mother disappearing for weeks at a time wasn’t exactly new. The older she got the more the bipolar disorder became undeniable. My Dad says it was mysterious and fun when they were young. Dating a girl who was the star of the show one week and could disappear the next. I think he thinks he’s painting a nice picture of my mother for me to remember, but it just makes me mad. I love my Father to death, but it always feels like she was more dream than woman to him.
I shouldered my backpack and huffed up at my dad, who to my annoyance had a warm (read as shit eating) grin on his face. Like knowing that I’d be aggravated on the train ride would give him some sort of sick fatherly joy.
“It’s not like you know how to get there by yourself.” He shrugged his shoulders at me. Asshole. But my Dad had a point, all of my relatives who were part of the wizarding world could only be contacted once I got situated at Hogwarts. And this squirrel-looking ginger was my best bet.
“Alright I’m not that squirrely looking.” he complained.
Shit, I did not intend on saying that out loud. Alice and Dad were staring at me with shocked, slightly disappointed facial expressions, the twins just seemed more entertained every time something went wrong. I might not have liked the guy but I didn’t mean to act like a complete dick.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say-“ I trailed off. What? Didn’t mean to say that out loud? That still means I thought about it. And sure he was a little too friendly for my taste but that didn’t mean I had to go in the complete opposite direction. And so a few tight hugs and one long goodbye later I was getting on the train with a complete stranger. I used to think I’d get on with my mother, once she came back arms wide open for a hug, ready to give me the answers to the questions that had been brewing for the last nine years.
I felt my eyes go wide as I stepped into the trolley. Noticing my reaction Fred spoke up. “A little different from America?” He questioned.
I let out a slightly shaky breath and nodded. “I’ve never been on a train before, most of the time I drive or skateboard.” His resting smile grew at my words. I shrunk slightly, not sure what I did wrong. “What?”
“Nothing, I’ve never driven a car before, much less seen a skateboard in action.”
Now it was my turn to question him, “You’ve seriously never driven a car? You’re like seventeen!”
“Well my little brother Ron and his friend Harry did once, but they crashed into a tree. So the Weasley family doesn’t exactly have a great track record with automobiles.”
I stopped for a moment as we walked down the center of the freight cars. “Weasley?”
“Weasley,” He confirmed, seemingly aware of his unusual last name. “There’s six of us, plus Harry since he spends practically every break at The Burrow, Hermoine likes it too over the Muggle World.” He looked over my shoulder to a car further down and waved, “Oh Merlin’s Beard, there they are now.”
I was blinking at him, even more confused than I was before. “What the hell is a Muggle?” I asked, the word sounded too big in my mouth, foreign to anything I’d known before. I prided myself on being smart and this delinquent seemed to be speaking a whole other language. He looked at me for a moment before laughing and shaking his head. Fred made his way further down, holding the door open for me. The trolley filled with most of the redheads I had seen him arriving with in the station.
“Guys meet your new classmate…” He looked down at me, seemingly at a loss for words for the first time all morning.
“Fred don’t tell me you’ve forgotten her name already!” A girl complained turning over in her seat, hair as bright as her voice. “You’ve been away from George for minutes and it’s like you’re having withdrawals.” George?
“Now Ginny doesn't get all twisted, I just met her, she's from the Muggle World.” He brushed off the girl’s words and started picking up suitcases to put in the compartments above.
“For the last time what the hell is a Muggle!” I exclaimed much louder than I intended, and the next thing I knew there were five sets of eyes staring at me, surprised. Shit . I probably could’ve said that more calmly.
“Blimey,” One boy said with hair similar to Fred’s, but less wavy, rather it flopped into his eyes.
“S-sorry” I said softly. “I’m just really confused.” I felt my ears go red as I looked towards Fred, practically begging him to say something.
“Well goodness Fred, if she’s not from here than you could've at least given her the rundown.” The only dark haired boy said.
A girl with big curly hair spoke up, “You, Harry and I are from the Muggle World, which means that we grew up around people who couldn’t practice magic. I’m a Muggle Born so my parents have no magic, and Harry is full blood because both of his parents practiced magic.” She walked forward self assuredly and stuck out a hand. “I’m Hermoine Granger,” I shook it readily, smiling at her. “Miah,”
“I know it’s confusing coming to a place so different, I personally read up as much as I could before arriving, but I know you Americans might not be so passionate about your studies.” My smile dropped for a moment but I lifted it back up before she could notice. Years of borderline backhand comments from Alice prepared me for this.
Fred snorted, “Not everyone gets off on being the smartest in the room ‘Moine.” The room chortled, Hermoine’s hair seemed to lift an inch or so like a cat when it’s frightened. And with a tight-lipped “Mmmph”, she turned on her heel and walked swiftly out the door.
The straight haired boy rolled his eyes, “Fred, she’s already on edge from George this morning, and she’s gonna be a real bother the whole ride there if she’s upset with me and Harry.” He gestured at the dark haired boy.
“So you’re Harry I presume?” I asked. He nodded, “Harry Potter- and you are?”
“Miah,” I answered, realizing that was the first real introduction I’d given all day. “Amiah Foster, exchange student from Kentucky.”
“Kentucky,?” He cocked his head to the side.
“It’s in The States,” I explained, now I was the one explaining seemingly simple words.
Harry and the other boy nodded before leaving to search for Hermoine.
The red haired girl moved in front of him and smiled at me, “And I’m Ginny Weasley, the youngest Weasley, the boy you just talked to was Ron, Percy and Charlie graduated, you’ve met Fred and George is…” She paused, seeming exasperated. “Well George is… preoccupied, I’m gonna go find the boys before they drive Hermoine completely over the edge.” She began to walk out before hanging back for a moment. “Hermoine’s sweet really, she forgets to show it sometimes.”
I nodded, I honestly wasn’t too offended. I figured she didn’t mean to say I wasn’t smart and honestly it was nice to have someone else who grew up 100% sure that Merlin was a myth, even though I was certainly extra self-concious of my American accent around these people.
Now it was just me and Fred, still a stranger but the stranger I knew best. He moved past me to put up his little sister’s suitcase, groaning slightly to hoist it up above his head. I watched him as he moved. He was gangly, sure, but I could see the faintest impression of muscles beneath his sweater. I turned my head as he reached down for the rest of the luggage but still glanced back at him. He looked surprisingly graceful, lithe almost. His broad shoulders giving the illusion of constant self assurance.
“Foster do you need my help with your bags or are you just going to keep watching?” He said. I stiffened, not sure if I was more embarrassed that he commented or that I had been caught. I whirled around and started picking up the lavender bags.
“Light purple seems a pretty cheerful color for you,”
“You don’t know me,” I said without looking at him, while inwardly cringing at my choice of phrase.
“Maybe not but the all black attire seems to give off a completely different meaning,” He countered. I gave my outfit a brief once over, I suppose it was a little dreary. Alice was always complaining that my closet needed more color. Fred was wearing a brown sweater and faded jeans. Far from the cover of a fashion week, but I seriously doubt that was a concern of his.
“Colors don’t have meaning, people just decided to give them meanings to make themselves feel good. White with purity, Black with evil, Gold with Honor, Purple with Royalty…” I trailed off as I reached down for another bag and looked at Fred. He looked surprisingly solem, like I had actually managed to make him think.
I’m not saying Fred seemed stupid, just far away. Like his feet were firmly planted in the ground but his head was spinning with ideas. He always seemed to be scoping out his surroundings, for just what though, I wasn’t sure.
“You sound like a Ravenclaw with all that talk, but you dress like a Slytherin, you can deal with Hermoine’s ranting so you’ve gotten to be somewhat of a Hufflepu-” I cut him off.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” I could feel heat creeping in from my ears. I heard laughter by my side. A group of boys making their way through the train, two large with dark hair, and a boy with blonde hair in the middle. The blonde’s hair was platinum, almost like a runway model, but it looked too brittle and lifeless. His features were sharp and hard, his eyes icy and cold. Not cold like Hermoine’s, no she was more cool and calculated. His eyes had a hardened quality like he was afraid of what would occur if he ever softened at all.
His eyes glossed over me then did a double take. “Who are you?” He questioned with all the authority of a British monarch.
“Miah Foster,” I answered, jutted my chin out in response. I might’ve been in a new country but I still wasn’t letting any prep school pretty boy talk down to me like that. “And you are?”
He seemed shocked that I questioned him, clearly it didn’t happen often. “Draco Malfoy, and I’ve never heard of any Foster wizarding family.” His light brows furrowed. “You’re an American, from the Muggle World?”
“Is that a question or a statement?” I asked, since he clearly seemed not to know. Fred laughed.
“Oh I’ll not be laughed at by the likes of you Weasley, putting the luggage in yourself rather than a spell or a servant.” Draco shouted, clearly ruffled by being questioned. He turned back to me, “I saw you fighting with him so I figured you could've been semi respectable, but a black American who…” He sniffed the air, “Reeks of Muggle? You should tread lightly Foster, you don’t belong.”
All the heat that had been rising all morning finally came to a tempest’s boil. I had just come across the ocean from a family where I was dead weight- just to hear what I had been fearing. That I didn’t belong, in the Muggle World or the Magic one, I just wasn’t meant to be anywhere. “Okay listen here Malfoy, I’ve never heard of your Wizarding family name, but you’ll hear of mine. My mother was a Hogwarts graduate, Arden Harding and mark my words- you’re going to wish I treaded lightly if you talk to me like that again.”
My fiery words seemed to have burned him just as I wanted. Draco backed up and swallowed before remembering himself, he fluffed his jacket. “Good to see you’ve got some bite, maybe your kind aren’t complete rubbish after all. Crabbe, Goyle, let’s go”. The boys grunted and followed.
Once they left I let go of the breath I had been holding. Great. I didn’t have any friends but I had almost certainly just made an enemy. I ran my cold hands over my now flushed face. I looked to Fred and to my surprise he was smiling.
“What?”
“You just talked down Malfoy, I haven’t seen anyone do that in… well in a while.”
I pursed my lips, “Well I’m glad I could entertain.” Fred seemed to wilt slightly, I was obviously still tense, and it just seemed like a joke to him.
I grabbed the last bag and started to bring it up. “Let me help yo-”
“No.” I shooed him away, “I am perfectly capable of doing this simple task on my own.” Maybe I didn’t have magic, but I had me. I planted my right boot onto one seat and the left on the seat across. I trembled as I lifted the bag up, refusing to look at Fred. I felt my sweater rise up and heard Fred gasp slightly before coughing hard. I attempted to look over my shoulder but my curls made a curtain so I couldn’t quite see, but I could make out that Fred had blood rushing to his face.
I rolled my eyes, that reaction at just my back? Wizard boys were serious prudes. But at least I had something to tease him about later, I stuffed it in my mental archives.
“Malfoy seems extra pissy tod-” Ron burst into the cabin unexpectedly, and looked at me in surprise. “Blimey” he said for the second time today. I wobbled, losing my balance. Readily, Fred placed one hand behind my back and used the other to stuff my luggage above and shut the compartment.
“You alright?” He laughed meekly, I looked down at him, resisting the urge to bite my lip.
“I-I’m fine yeah.” I lifted myself up, my stomach lurching, and because I just couldn’t get a win, the train followed suit. The whistle blew and the train shuddered forward, promptly sending me backwards. This time falling completely into Fred’s arms, he reacted quickly, reflexes almost cat-like. But my weight and the train threw him off balance and he stumbled into one of the seats.
I opened my eyes, not realizing I had closed them in the first place. And when I opened them I saw a pair of light brown eyes staring down my dark ones. We let out a breath in union before bursting into laughter at the situation.
“Are most Kentucky girls like this?” He choked out.
“Just me,” I managed, “They sent me away for it.”
“Fred Weasley!” A familiar voice shouted out, indignant. I followed the sound to see Hermoine looking shocked, along with Harry. While Ron and Ginny laughed so hard they slowly slid down the wall and a girl with ash blonde waves jumped up and down behind them trying to get a look at Fred and I.
I took a moment and realized how the situation looked. Fred and I had equally red faces, albeit mine was a bit darker, in a cart all alone and I was sitting in his lap. I was sitting in his lap. I WAS SITTING IN HIS LAP. The magnitude of the situation crashed down on me. He was still a complete stranger and this was the first impression I was giving.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I said standing up, practically pushing Fred away.
“Oh sure it’s not,” Ginny laughed.
“Seriously Gin, it’s not what it looks like,” Fred said, running his hand through his now suspiciously disheveled hair, an action that I begrudgingly admit, I wouldn’t hate doing myself. Oh my gosh Mya what the hell?
“I would like to know what it looks like!” The girl said, pushing in front of Harry and Hermoine, almost tumbling to the floor before looking up to Fred and I. A glint in her eyes, something that I knew all too well. I had seen it in far too many Southern mothers whose tones were sweet as Iced Tea, but words were venomous as a Cottonmouth. Someone ready to curate and spread gossip as quickly as possible.
“Oh piss off Lavender,” Hermoine said, moving her out the way before grabbing my wrist and leading me away. “C’mon Mya, we don’t need to associate with the likes of these.” How do you know I want to associate with you? I thought but remained silent.
“It’s not everyday Weasley has a girl sitting in his lap.” Lavender shouted.
As the door swung open, I saw a tall black boy (Oh thank GOD there are other black people here) looking at me then grinning over my shoulder. “In trouble already Weasley?”
I looked over my shoulder once more before the door swung closed and saw Fred staring back at me before answering.
“I certainly hope so,”