two ; dementor

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Aurora Areli

THE AIR INSIDE THE worn-down house was warm, and a draft was lifting the ends of my hair as I climbed the staircase, which creaked with every step. As I looked up through the bluish haze, I could hear the sound of muffled voices that seemed to be arguing. Something about "Peter" and "rat" and "betrayal".

Once I reached the top of the stairs, I came face to face with a door. Just as I was about to push it open, wanting to see who the voices belonged to, I heard someone say my name.

"Rory!" they shouted. "Rory, wake up!"

What?

As my eyes fluttered open, I was greeted with Hermione's face leaning over me.

"For heaven's sake, Rory," she said, "it's nearly ten o'clock."

"All right, all right, I'm awake," I said, sitting up and trying as hard as I could to keep my eyes open. I then stumbled over to my trunk and picked out a pair of denim shorts and one of Mrs Weasley's jumpers to change into before heading to the bathroom.

When I came out, still running my fingers through my messy red mane, Hermione and Ginny were sitting on one of the beds, talking. After coaxing Jupiter back into his cage, the three of us gathered our trunks and headed downstairs for breakfast.

"There you are, good morning girls," Mrs Weasley greeted us. "I hope you're all packed — oh Rory, you poor dear, what are you going to do with all that hair?"

I smiled weakly as I sat down at the table next to Hermione. Mrs Weasley took it upon herself to run a brush through my hair, telling us about the time she made a Love Potion when she was younger. She had just tied off my braid when Harry and Ron entered the room and sat down across from us.

After we ate, all of us piled our trunks near the door, with Hedwig, Jupiter, and Hermes, Percy's screech owl, perched on top. A small wickerwork basket stood beside the heap of trunks, spitting loudly.

"It's all right, Crookshanks," Hermione cooed through the wickerwork. "I'll let you out on the train."

"You won't," Ron snapped. "What about poor Scabbers, eh?"

He pointed at his chest, where a large lump indicated that Scabbers was curled up in his pocket.

Mr Weasley, who had been outside waiting for the Ministry cars, stuck his head inside.

"They're here," he said. "Harry, come on."

Harry looked to me and I shrugged, leaving him to follow Mr Weasley out to the cars. A few minutes later, some official-looking people came in to collect our trunks, and Mrs Weasley ushered us all outside.

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐄𝐋 ; h.potterWhere stories live. Discover now