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Neptune woke to a stuffed nose. This wasn't unusual, especially not this late in the term, but it was still annoying. She had worked herself sick once again, despite all promises to Thomas not to. Oh well.
Quiet chatter surrounded her, but they were all voices she didn't recognize. Odd— there were hardly ever visitors to the Ravenclaw tower. Neppie sat up, rubbing at her eyes, and the chatter ceased. Her eyes were sore— had she been crying?— and her back hurt. She stretched herself out, reaching up to the ceiling— only to realise when she opened her eyes that it was not a ceiling she recognized.
Usually, she would be far more concerned, but Neptune's sleep-addled brain couldn't be bothered enough to care. "Huh," she said. "Odd."
That phrase could describe around ninety percent of her life.
Huh. Odd.
"Neptune?" Well, that was new. Two heads were poking over the couch, both of which Neppie recognised. "Hermione?" she asked, bewildered. The younger girl's face stretched into a wide smile. "You're awake! We were getting worried— you had a fever for a while, you know."
"Huh," said Neptune again. "Where— where am I, exactly?" She was still speaking to just Hermione. She wasn't quite ready to register Harry's presence yet. But apparently her brother didn't care about this, because he was the one to answer her question. "You're in the Gryffindor Common Room," he said. Neppie met his eyes for a second and then forced herself to look away. She was sure that he didn't know who she was, and he wouldn't want anything to do with her if she did. Hermione must have brought her.
"Do you remember how you got here?" Harry asked curiously. Neppie furrowed her brow and shook her head slowly. "Should I?" she asked, voice nervous. Harry's eyes widened. "Yes," he said vehemently. Hermione whacked him over the head. Now Neppie was concerned. What had she done? Had she said something wrong? Did— Did Harry know?
Her fears must have been displayed clearly on her face because Hermione was quick to assuage them. "He knows," she said hurriedly. "He knows, but—" Harry interrupted her. "You should never have been nervous," he said. His eyes bore into her own. She searched him for any sign of discontent, of disappointment or resentment or hate, but there was only open acceptance in his face. "You're not... disappointed?" she ventured. Harry looked almost offended. "Of course not!" he said indignantly. "'Mione told me all about you, you know. Fred and George've got it all wrong."
Neppie wanted to cry.
That seemed to be a recurring feeling, lately.
"Fred and George're wrong about what?" Another redhead— tall, lanky, with tons of freckles, whom Neppie knew to be Ron Weasley— walked into the Common Room. Neptune, Hermione, and Harry turned to face the boy, who was still dressed in his pyjamas. "What're you doing up so early? And who is that?" he asked, gesturing to Neppie. She made to get up, but Harry pushed her back down. "This is Neptune— she's my sister," he said.
