The last week was hectic. Battles were waged on whether Heather would be permitted in to the Order (Dumbledore had won for the time being,) Harry’s scar twinged once in a while, Heather got to know Remus well (though she still had yet to tell McGonagall that she knew she was her godmother) and, while nothing more than snogging had ever gone on, the couples kept their relationships a secret, even from one another, or so they thought. Harry had no idea that Ron knew he was snogging Hermione, Hermione, no idea that Heather knew, Heather, no idea that Hermione knew, and Ron, no idea that Harry knew.
When the morning of September First arrived, they packed up all their last minute possession and loaded them into the car that the Ministry had given Mr. Weasley, due to his helping alter the world that Voldemort was not gone.
They arrived at King’s Cross safely enough, and were all on the train (getting Heather through the barrier had been a challenge, for she refused, at first, to walk at a wall, fearing that because she was not a first year or a returning student or a parent it would kick her out.
Finally, Lupin, who had come along for safety measures, picked her up and carried her through (while Arthur pushed her trolley of possessions) when Heather realized she had not her Hogsmeade form filled out. She was throughly depressed until Ron, who had been trying to hold her hand under her robes and not give himself away to Harry and Hermione, who were doing the same thing, felt a folded bit of parchment and pulled it out when Harry and Hermione were whispering to each other. He handed to Heather, who opened it, read it, and grinned.
“I, Remus Lupin, Heather Evans godfather, give her permission to visit Hogsmeade on weekends.”
“Ha!” She exclaimed. Harry snatched it from her and smiled, thinking of Sirius.
“Snuffles wrote the same thing on mine....” he trailed off, and Hermione placed her hand on his thigh in a comforting way. Harry stayed quiet for the remainder of the trip, while Heather drifted in and out of sleep.
Hermione finally started pulling her robes on, and Ron nudged Heather awake. No one had been by their compartment to visit, so they had not had to explain that Heather was new and a cousin of Ron’s. This had been chosen as their cover story, as it would be what was found if someone decided to search for Heather through the Muggle method of searching.
They arrived at the castle in one piece (if Heather could see the threstrals, she said nothing) and, while Ron, Harry and Hermione were permitted to sit at the Gryffindor table, Heather was ushered off with the first years for sorting.
Finally, after the last of the first years was sorted, it was Heather’s turn. Dumbledore briefly explained that she was a student from America who would be coming to Hogwarts for the last two years of her schooling. Heather stepped forward hesitantly, and placed the hat on her head.
“Brains...you could be great.”
“I could, you’re right,” she thought back at the hat.
“Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness, just as it would have helped your twin.”
“Then put me in Slytherin if you think I’m fitted for it.”
“No, I think you shall be GRYFFINDOR!”
Gryffindor cheered loudly as Heather walked over and joined them. She had known that she’d be Gryffindor. Twins were not always in the same houses, as she could see from a set of identical ones, but usually, siblings were.
Dumbledore gave his start of term feast, reminded them the Forest was off limits (Hermione, Harry and Ron snickered) and introduced the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Percy Weasley.
“WHAT?!” Ron yelped as Percy came out from the back room, where he’d obviously been waiting. He sat by Dumbledore, looking hesitant, and shot the Gryffindor table a look, which clearly read “I’ll explain it later.”
“Another brother, Ron?” Heather asked quietly, so no one else could hear.
“Another cousin of yours,” he reminded her quietly, nibbling her ear slightly as he pulled away, but not so that anyone noticed.
“Before bed, I would like to announce the new Captains of the house Quidditch teams. Slytherin will be Draco Malfoy,” (Dumbledore paused long enough to allow Ron to mumble something about buying ones way into power) “Hufflepuff will be Hannah Abbott, Ravenclaw will be Cho Chang, and Gryffindor will be Ron Weasley.”
Harry and Heather cheered the hardest for Ron, who nearly fell off his stool. How had he forgotten that Quidditch captains were being picked? To top it all off, he’d almost forgotten he was a prefect, and would have completely forgotten if Hermione had not made him report to the front of the train at the very start of their journey.
“Well done!” Harry stated as they left the Great Hall.
“Why didn’t you get it?”
Harry smirked slightly. “Dumbledore knows you’ll be better at it than I am. Come on, who knows, next year it could be you and I splitting it. They’ve been known to do that before, but for now, I think it’s excellent that it’s you.”
“So do I,” Hermione and Heather stated. “You’re much better at working with the team than Harry is anyway,” Hermione teased. Harry rolled his eyes and smiled.
They reached the Fat Lady by then, and gave the password of “Quieres tu bailar con el queso” and were permitted entrance.
“Who thinks up these ruddy passwords?” Ron asked.
“It’s “do you want to dance with the cheese” in Spanish,” Heather stated.
“And our heads of house think them up,” Hermione added.
“Goodnight, lot,” Ron stated, exhausted, a moment later. He hurried up to his dorm after the others had bid him goodnight, and slid into bed. Harry followed a moment later, and did not say much more, other than “Goodnight, Captain Weasley” as they drifted off to sleep.
Author’s note: the phrase “quieres tu bailar con el queso” was dreamed up by my best friend, and it actually flows quite smoothly off the tongue. It does, in fact, mean, ‘do you want to dance with the cheese?”
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