Harry Potter and the Bucket List

Year 1 - 5

Beta: Cloudy

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Harry met me at the library early in the morning the next weekend. We took a seat in the far back so we wouldn't disturb others with our conversation. In hushed tones and whispers we caught each other up with everything that had happened so far.

Harry had (unsurprisingly) made the Quidditch team. He was disappointed he couldn't use his personal broom, but he was such a talented and experienced flyer that he could compensate. He would actually have to attend practice later that day.

Hermione, he had said, was also a Tolkien fan. She wasn't as avid of a reader of fantasy as he was, but she appreciated the classics and since finding out she was a witch she had been going back and comparing the Muggle archetypes against reality. Harry went on to say that she was easy to talk to because she always waited for him to finish speaking even if he started to stutter which he really appreciated.

Neville had ended up in their group after one of the other boys teased him about his stutter. Harry didn't specify who had mocked Neville, and when I asked he pointedly looked away and mumbled for me to not have to worry. It'd be a lie to say that it didn't bother me, but I knew that was only because I was protective of my brother.

"You're not the one being bullied, are you?" I seriously asked, pinning Harry with my stern gaze.

"They haven't said anything bad about me," Harry mumbled, and the emphasis on me told me students were harassing others. At my expectant look he reluctantly added, "Some boys can be gits to Hermione and... you."

"Ignore what they say about me," I told him. "You standing up for your friend?"

"Every time I hear it," affirmed Harry, raising his chin up in pride.

"Good. They ever cross a line..."

"I know."

I smiled, reaching forward and sweetly kissing his cheek. "Love you, Harry."

Harry grinned, abashed. "Love you too, Rosie."

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"What have we here, Gred?"

"I think it's a lost little snake, Forge!"

Once again I was on my way back from the library when I was greeted by two charming twins. I couldn't hold back my chuckle of amusement as they flanked me.

What oh what could they want now? I wondered.

"Good morning handsome men," I praised as I shifted my grip on the textbook I had checked out. I had to continue my studies in runecrafting. Independent studying was difficult to do, but I had little options. Runecrafting was an essential foundation to crafting rituals and I had a feeling that rituals and potions would play a key element in creating my worgen army.

"Handsome men she calls us!"

"We are pretty handsome."

"Careful though," George joked, "we were just gifted two Nimbus Two Thousands by an anonymous witch who also called us handsome men."

"Called us the most handsome men on the Quidditch team and that's why we deserved proper brooms."

I exaggerated my fake surprise by gasping and placing my free hand on my cheek. "Oh my word! Competition already?"

That made the duo laugh, and I giggled along. There was an undeniable air of charisma and charm that they exuded, although each a bit different. The more times I encountered the twins, the easier I could feel their magic. Fred's magic was a firework; an explosion of power and joy. George's magic was a bonfire; a steady powerhouse of warmth.