Rose found herself standing on platform nine-and-three-quarters, surrounded by her family. James, Albus, Lily, Hugo and she were all returning to Hogwarts, along with their other cousins Dominque, who was in seventh-year, and Louis, the same age as Rose and Albus.
'Remember, Rose, just because you've finished your OWLs doesn't mean you can simply cruise through this year, NEWTs are just around the corner,' her mother reminded her for what must have been the nine-hundreth time that summer.
'Yeah, hopefully you can scrape a few more than James gets, but that shouldn't be too hard,' said her Aunt Ginny, rolling her chocolate coloured eyes at her seventeen-year-old, wild-child son who was horsing around with Albus and Louis.
'Who cares how many NEWTs she gets? As long as she gets more than Malfoy's kid it's fine,' cut in her father, causing her mother to glower at him and her Uncle Harry to laugh heartily. Rose had tried excruciatingly hard to get more OWLs than Scorpius Malfoy, who seemed to be effortlessly clever, just like Rose, had inherited her mother's brains, her father's fiery red hair, her mother's curls and, strangely, bright, tourmaline green eyes, even brighter than Lily's.
'Rosie-Posey-Wosey,' sung James in a mock baby voice, tugging her striking curls.
'Shut up or I'll hex you into next week,' she snarled, pointing her wand at him threateningly.
'She's just like you,' said Harry to Ginny, watching the two cousins with an amused expression. Rose glared at him, eager to get on the train and as far away from her family as possible, though that would be difficult. A whistle blew and the Potters and Weasleys ushered their clan onto the scarlet steam engine, kissing them repeatedly and shouted hurried warnings about behaviour, grades and general niceties, to which all of the children ignored. Rose followed Louis and Albus into a compartment, occupied by her younger cousin, and Albus' sister, Lily. As the train jerked into movement, Rose allowed the excited voices of her cousins to pass through her.
She remembered the first time she had wandered Hogwarts Castle, she remembered her first train journey, she remembered her Sorting. Oh, her Sorting! She could remember the exact words that odd Hat had uttered. She also remembered the Sorting of the stupid, arrogant, annoying, tiresome, know-it-all Scorpius Malfoy.
'Malfoy, Scorpius!' called out Professor McGonagall, a stern-looking witch with a head of iron coloured hair, pulled back into a tight bun. A smaller, haughty boy with a shock of silky, white-blonde hair sauntered up to the aged stool as the Professor placed the tattered, worn hat upon his head.
'SLYTHERIN!' it screamed, barely touching his platinum hair. The boy swaggered off to the table donning green. Rose stood nervously as names were called out.
'Weasley, Rose!' the Professor said. Little Rose Weasley anxiously stumbled to the stool and flopped down on it clumsily. The witch placed the hat on her red head.
'Hmm...' a croaking voice said in her ear. 'Another Weasley. Bright one aren't you? Extraordinarily witty, sharp as a tack. Determined, ambitious, eager to prove yourself, eh? I can see immense talent, on your way to greatness I'd say. So where to put you, Rose Weasley? Definitely not Hufflepuff, too much talent and potential. Gryffindor? Nah, you think of yourself first. That leaves Slytherin or Ravenclaw...'
'No! Not Slytherin!' Rose whispered frantically. The Hat let out a throaty chuckle.
'Not Slytherin, eh? Well then, I'd say... RAVENCLAW!' it shouted, and the blue-clad table burst into applause.
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