Previously called TWO OF THE SAME
❝ It's better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. ❞
Living with her godmother, Dorcas Meadows, and her uncle, Remus Lupin, 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 lives a pretty good life. That's unt...
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THEY DID NOT TALK MUCH DURING THE REMAINDER OF THE JOURNEY. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get out; owls hooted, cats miaowed and Neville's pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.
"Firs'—years this way!" called a familiar voice. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Harper turned and saw the gigantic outline of Hagrid at the other end of the platform, beckoning the terrified-looking new students forward for their traditional journey across the lake.
"All righ', you four?" Hagrid yelled over the heads of the crowd. They waved at him, but had no chance to speak to him because the mass of people around them was shunting them away along the platform.
The four of them followed the rest of the school out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled by a some kind of black horse.
The coach smelled faintly of mould and straw. Harper felt better since the chocolate, but still weak. Ron and Hermione kept looking at the siblings sideways, as though frightened they might collapse again.
As the carriage trundled towards a pair of magnificent wrought-iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, Harper saw two more towering, hooded Dementors, standing guard on either side. A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf her again; she leant back into the lumpy seat and closed her eyes until they had passed through the gates.
The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle; Hermione was leaning out of the tiny window, watching the many turrets and towers draw nearer. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and Hermione and Ron got out.
As Harry stepped down, a drawling, delighted was sound.
"You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?"
"Hey, jerk!" Harper called out from out of the carriage as she stumbled out—not one of the fancied exits she had ever made, and glared at Malfoy.
"Did you faint as well, Harper?" Malfoy said loudly. "Did the scary old Dementor frighten you, too?"
