Shadows and Light: Queen of Hearts

Chapter Two- Lockets, Ouidditch, and King's Cross Station

"You look lovely dear," the mirror assured her gently, "Don't fret."

"Can't help it," Brooke said as she fiddled with a silver chain hanging around her neck. The locket glittered bright silver as a streak of sunlight bounced off of it. A tiny frown on her face, she contemplated taking it off.

"Why all the fuss? You'll be fine. I'm sure they're not horrible people," the mirror reassured. This only made Brooke's frown deepen; it had been weeks since she had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, without any contact with anyone (save the first message from Hogwarts and Tom the innkeeper). Then, only a few days ago, another owl had come bearing another letter from Hogwarts, instructing that Brooke was to meet her host family for the rest of the summer.

That had made her suspicious. Brooke hadn't come to England as a foreign exchange student to begin with, although that had been her rather weak story. So questions kept nagging her... how had Hogwarts found out about her before hand, and why were they helping her? Did they know the truth, and if they did, why don't they just send her home? Why play along?

Her hand clenched around her locket in frustration; it had been way too easy so far, and Hogwarts be damned before she walked into a trap; best school in the world or not.

The mirror sighed, startling Brooke, "That's a very pretty locket dear," the mirror told her, shifting Brooke's train of thought, "Where did you get it?"

Brooke looked at her reflection, seeing how her eyes suddenly glazed over; subconscious reaction. "It was a gift from my brother; when I first got accepted into school over in America," she said in a hollow voice. Her fingers traced the heart engraved on the surface of the metal slowly, savoring the warmth radiating from the smooth object. "It was my mother's."

Her fingers fell on the small clasp, but she didn't open it. The memories, even after all this time, were still too fresh, still too painful.

Instead, Brooke drew her fingers away and reached up to her hair (which she had twisted and braided into a complicated bun earlier that morning). She could barely believe that in less than three days, she would be at Hogwarts. Time seemed to have flown by, and Brooke couldn't remember a time she had been as remotely happy as she was now. She smiled a bit, touching the silver chain once more before tucking it under her shirt with a sigh; had she ever been happy before?

"Time to go, dear," the mirror reminded her, "You don't want to leave your guests waiting."

Brooke nodded. "You're right." She turned her back towards the mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles of her shirt. The dark blue fabric had been dyed to resemble the sky at dusk. It was one of the two shirts she had been able to purchase with her own money; all her other clothing were boring, solid colors, clashing wildly with Brooke's need for 'wackiness.'

There was a knock at the door, startling Brooke a bit.

"Miss," Tom poked his baldhead in. "they're here."

"I'm coming, Tom," Brooke said with a small smile; she felt odd that it felt so natural to smile in this place. It was still something new to her. With one last glance at her appearance in the mirror, she walked to the door, her heavy black laced-up boots making a muffled 'thunk'-ing noise on the wooden floor.

She followed Tom down a dimly lit oak staircase to the main body of the bar. Pub, she reminded herself, looking around the poorly lit room. Tom gave her a toothy grin and gestured to a booth next to a window. Two figures already occupied the seats, their heads bent in conversation. Feeling slightly self-conscious, Brooke slowly walked towards the booth, doubts begin to fill her mind on whether she had made the right decision or not.

One of them looked up the moment Brooke stopped a few feet from the table. A wide smile broke across the face of the plump woman, and Brooke couldn't help but attempt a smile as well.

"Hello, dear," the woman greeted cheerfully, her thick British accent making it hard for Brooke to understand the woman. "You must be the American exchange student."

Brooke nodded slowly, clasping her hands behind her back. Her eyes narrowed slightly, half of her mind trying to process the not so familiar language, and the other half trying to figure out why this woman looked so familiar. "Yes, my name is Brooke."

Brooke turned her attention to the teenager sitting besides the woman. She seemed to be Brooke's age with fiery waves of hair pulled up into a messy ponytail. Her hazily brown eyes were looking speculatively at Brooke. Her pale face was dusted lightly with freckles across her nose and cheeks.

"This is Ginny," the woman said, smiling kindly as she placed a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "And I'm her mother. You may call me Mrs. Weasley."

"Hello," Brooke said shyly, sitting across from the two. She noticed the older woman was wearing a set of robes, while her daughter was dressed in a muggle tee shirt and a pair of jeans.

Ginny grinned shyly at her.

Mrs. Weasley began to speak. "Now," she began saying, seemingly ready to take charge of the situation. "The Headmaster had said it was in your best interest to meet us at the station on September first. But I told him you were probably scared out of your mind, staying here all on your own."

Brooke felt herself blush. "It wasn't a problem, really." Why does she look so familiar?

Mrs. Weasley waved a hand. "I had my mind made up to come get you straight away, after Fred was asked to help you at the airport..."

"I knew you looked familiar," Brooke burst out suddenly, blushing slightly as she realized how rude that must have seemed. Ginny grinned widely at her, while Mrs. Weasley chuckled.

"Yes, my lot is rather eye-catching," she smiled kindly at her. "Have you gotten your supplies for school, then?"

"Yes," Brooke smiled reassuringly back. "I took care of that the day after I got here." And my robes are just about complete, she thought with a secret smile to herself.

"That's good, dear. Would you mind hanging about with Ginny while she buys hers? She's the only girl in the family, see?"

"Mum!" Ginny exclaimed, her face turning as red as her hair. "Don't bother making her..."

"That would be great." Brooke smiled again, this time at Ginny. "It would be fun."

Oh, Lord, her inner voice whispered desperately, I haven't got a clue what to do around girls my age...when was the last time I even talked to one my age?

"Come along, then." Mrs. Weasley stood up, and Ginny and Brooke followed her example. "You two run along to Diagon Alley, and I'll arrange to have your things taken with us to the Burrow."

"The Burrow?" Brooke asked, furrowing her brows in thought as she wondered if she had heard correctly. I wish they would slow down a little when they talked; it's getting more difficult to understand.

"Oh," Ginny spoke up. "That's what our home's called." she blushed a little. "It'll be rather crowded. Hope you don't mind."

Brooke thought of her own home back in America. It was quiet all the time, with her father usually coming home at seven in the evening. An involuntary chill ran up her spine at the thought of her father, but she quickly suppressed the feeling. A faster change of pace seemed like a blessing to Brooke.

"I don't mind," she reassured Ginny, smiling a bit. Ginny smiled as well, looking relieved.

"You two seem like you'll be fine," Mrs. Weasley said as she waved them on their way. "Now, don't take too long, Ginny; I still have dinner to prepare when we get home."

"Alright Mum," Ginny said with a blush, but grinned as she grabbed a hold of Brooke's arm and lead her to the back of the pub, "We won't be more than an hour," she called back to her mother, dragging a startled looking Brooke after her towards the brick wall leading to Diagon Alley.

Ginny seemed more open with her when they were alone. "What part of the States are you from?" she asked as she found the right brick above the trashcan and tapped it three times with her wand.

Brooke didn't answer right away as she watched, mesmerized as the solid wall swirled and began to contrast until an opening just large enough for the two to pass through appeared. The sounds of the alley suddenly increased ten-fold as the sound of people chatting and walking across the cobble-stoned streets met her ear.

"Chicago," Brooke told her, stepping through the entrance to the sun-lit streets of Diagon Alley, taking in all the activity with widened eyes. "That's in Illinois."

Ginny began to blush. "I'm not that familiar with the states," she admitted, walking besides her through the crowds. "But it sounds fascinating."

Brooke shrugged, her eyes wandering around to the shop windows. "I guess so, if you're not from there."

Dozens of witches and wizards, some Brooke and Ginny's age, milled around the shop fronts, Ginny waved to some of them.

"Mates from school," she explained to Brooke as they passed by Quality Quidditch Supplies, where a particularly larger crowd was gathered, "Another prototype broom, I suspect." Ginny pointed to the shop. "You like Quidditch?"

"Yeah." Brooke nodded, trying to get a glimpse of the window display. "But I've never been able to play; haven't flown too much."

Ginny grinned mysteriously. "Have any talent?"

Brooke frowned a bit, thinking. "I suppose," she said carefully. "I'd like to be a Chaser."

Ginny nodded. "Mum doesn't like the thought of me playing such a dangerous sport, after all the injuries Harry has sustained."

Brooke nodded, following only about half of what Ginny was saying.

"Come on," Ginny suddenly perked up, pointing to a store. "Flourish and Blotts is just up this way."

They entered the shop, which seemed to be less crowded. They heard a sudden shrill yell. It was the shopkeeper, whose hand was thrusted precariously inside a cage, where books snapped furiously at each other. He shouted again when one of the books attacked his hand.

"They're still selling those horrid books." Ginny shook her head in sympathy, walking towards the back of the store with Brooke in tow.

"Glad I don't need one of those," Brooke muttered softly as pages were violently being ripped out of one of the books as the other attacked it. Ginny heard, and giggled quietly.

"They nearly gave up on them," Ginny explained again as they stopped near a tall bookcase. "But they're necessary for Care of Magical Creatures."

Brooke looked around while Ginny began collecting her books. This shop was ceased to amazing her, even with her second visit. Stacks of books, some larger than her, others no bigger than her thumb nail, crowded the shelves on all four walls of the shop. Tables displaying specialty books took up most of the floor space, and one of these caught Brooke's eye. Reading had never been a past time for Brooke, but a good one now and then was an excellent way to pass the time.

Brooke walked over to the display, picking up the book with the pale silver color and deep indigo writing on the front. "Divination in Dreams," Brooke read aloud, her curiosity perked even more. Flipping through the thick book carefully, she began skimming a passage on dream-sequences.

A sudden loud thud and heavy breathing soon caught Brooke's attention. Looking up from the book, Brooke spotted a large stack of books on the table next to her that hadn't been there before.

"Finished," huffed a red-faced Ginny, pushing some stray strands of hair from her face. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting."

Brooke grinned despite herself. "Here," she offered, placing her book back on its display as she took the top half of the books from Ginny's pile. "You shouldn't have to carry them all."

Ginny's hazel eyes looked at her gratefully. "It's alright, really," she assured Brooke, taking her now lighter load into her arms. "I'm use to it."

Brooke shook her head as they began exiting the shop. "I don't mind," she told Ginny, glancing at the top book in her pile.

"Advanced Potions," she read aloud, a small smile on her face as she looked back up at Ginny. "Maybe we'll be in the same class."

Ginny's eyes sparkled. "Maybe, but you probably won't like potions at all; Professor Snape is horrible."

Brooke looked a bit surprised. "I absolutely adore potions." They were walking outside again, Brooke narrowing her eyes against the bright sunlight. "Actually, I seem to have a knack for it."

Ginny giggled. "You'll hate it by the end of the year."

Brooke suddenly smiled. "Wanna bet?" she asked.

Ginny walked over to an outdoor café, placing her books down on a table under a sun umbrella. Brooke followed her example, watching the girl expectantly.

Ginny sat solemnly at the table, her face a neutral mask but a twinkle of mischief sparkled in her eyes. "I don't gamble," she said.

"You're no fun." Brooke stuck her tongue out playfully, something she normally wouldn't do. I feel like I've known her forever.

"Oh, go on then." Ginny's mask dissolved as her face broke out in a smile. "What's the bet?"

Thinking for a moment, Brooke closed her eyes, chin resting in her palm. "How about Potions homework? Since were on the subject."

"Alright." Ginny leaned forward conspiringly. "You'll have to do a month's of my Potions homework if you find yourself disliking Potions at all."

"You're on," Brooke said with a straight face. "And you'll do mine if I like it as much as I do now!" She suddenly couldn't help but smile broadly, the first time since the beginning of her trip.

Ginny mirrored the smile. "Shake on it?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow as she reached her hand across the table.

The smile still on her face, Brooke extended her own hand and clasped Ginny's firmly, sealing the deal. "It's a bet."

Ginny giggled. "I hope you're in the same house as me," she said. "You don't act like normal witches."

"Why should I?" Brooke asked, slightly surprised but laughing as well. "I'm American."

* * *

The room was still and silent. Only the occasional movement of a mass of red wavy curls was evident that there was life in the room. Early morning sunlight crept through sheer curtains, falling across the wooden floor littered with spell books, clothing and papers surrounding two open trunks.

The sunlight filled the room until as a figure bundled in blankets on the floor began to stir. She cracked one eye slowly, and then shut it tightly.

"It's way too early," Brooke muttered, pulling a hand from the blankets to rub her eyes before opening them. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the light before shutting them again. Yes, definitely way too early.

But instead of drifting back into sleep, Brooke suddenly remembered that tomorrow morning, she and the others would finally be leaving for Hogwarts. Excitement filled her, and her eyes opened again as a small smile spread across her lips. Ginny's animated stories of the multistory castle and the numerous adventures of Harry Potter and his friends had left Brooke mesmerized; the tale was far better than anything she had ever read in some dusty history book was.

Harry Potter. The name caused Brooke to frown a bit. She had finally met the famous wizard in person just last night, if you could call the brief glimpse a meeting. During dinner the night before, Brooke had been stunned into silence during the middle of her conversation with Mr. Weasley by a large explosion coming from the direction of the fireplace. Soot had immediately begun drifting into the kitchen, when Mrs. Weasley rushed over to where three figures were beginning to appear. Brooke had whirled around in her seat, curious and came into contact with a pair of surprisingly intense emerald eyes.

Harry Potter, accompanied by two others, looked only a little like the photos Brooke had seen of him. He had the same unruly black hair and glasses, but there was a haunted look in the young man's eyes. The young woman to his left, who was wiping soot away from her face, had thick, wavy dark brown hair and even deeper brown eyes. The young man on Harry's other side could only be one of Ginny's brothers. His red hair was speckled with gray and his bright blue eyes seemed to show relief at being home.

Brooke's first impression of these three had been a mixture of awe and apprehension; there was something about them that made Brooke think that there was more to these three than what was apparent on the surface. Maybe it had been the stories Ginny had told her, or maybe it was Brooke's habit of not trusting people to begin with, but there was something about the trio that told her not to cross them; to fear them, even.

After a shaky silence, Mrs. Weasley had quickly ushered the three exhausted looking teens upstairs, promising food once they had cleaned up a bit. Brooke hadn't seen them the rest of the night.

"They've been gone all summer," Ginny had explained that night when they were finally alone. "Ever since term finished. You'll be able to speak to them in the morning, I reckon."

Brooke wasn't sure if she was looking forward to the meeting; she had heard enough from Ginny to come to the conclusion that the three were most definitely dangerous, and she had to wonder what all these dark 'adventures' had done to them both mentally as well as physically.

Stop it, she chided herself, rolling over onto her side as she closed her eyes, Stay calm...and just see what happens.

* * *

" Oi, American girl," one of the twins greeted her from the breakfast table as she walked down the stairs. "Is Gin up yet?"

Brooke made a face. "Not yet, and the name's Brooke."

He flashed her a roughish smile before finishing off the piece of toast in his hand. "I know, and I'm George, by the way."

She sighed exasperatedly as she took a seat across from him, pulling over the serving plate of eggs. She had been dealing with the nickname 'American Girl' ever since coming to the Burrow, where the twins loved to torment her until she finally exploded with anger. It didn't help she couldn't tell the two apart.

Scooping some eggs onto her plate, Brooke finally noticed the silence; she frowned, knowing silence in the Burrow could only lead to trouble. "Where is everyone?" she asked suspiciously.

"Mum's out," George said around a mouthful of bacon. "Dad's at the Ministry, and I haven't a clue where Fred's at."

Brooke glanced quickly at the clock across the room that showed where every member of the Weasley family was located. Three hands, Ginny, Ron and George's were pointed at home, while the others were pointed at various other places across the clock face. Fred's was pointed squarely at Work.

Brooke chewed on a piece of toast, ignoring the broad smile George was sending her way; it was too early to start getting worked up, she decided. Instead, she contemplated asking George what last night had been all about.

Instead, she asked, "How's the joke shop doing?"

Brooke had remembered the twins mentioning something about it before, right after trying to test one of their newer pranks on her.

"Pretty well, actually." George sent her another smile, one without any prankish intent in it. "I'm meeting up with Fred now; want to join me?"

As curious as Brooke was about their business (some of their pranks were rather funny), she was even more intrigued by the three sleeping upstairs. "Think I'll take a rain check," Brooke said with a small apologetic smile. "Gin said something about Quidditch training to me last night."

George suddenly looked thoughtful. "Going for the house team, then?" he asked her, surprisingly serious. "Any good?"

Brooke sipped a glass of orange juice, a grimace on her face. "I've only flown a handful of times before. I don't know if I can even stay on a broom anymore."

George shrugged. "You always know how to fly," he told her. "It's all instinct. Anyways, Gin will be able to tell you if you got the stuff. She's not playing for Gryffindor, but she has an eye for the talent."

George stood up and made his way over to the fireplace. A roaring fire was already waiting for him, cracking cheerfully in its confinement.

A noise from the stairs behind them made both of them turn. "What do I have a talent for?" Ginny asked, yawning as she ran a hand through her sleep tousled hair.

George grinned at his sister as he took a pinch of floo powder from a pot on the mantle piece and tossed it into the flames. "Only that you'll make a good team manager for a Quidditch team one day," he called over his shoulder with a grin. He then shouted, " WWW Headquarters!" before stepping into the green flames.

With a smile, Ginny sat besides Brooke and took a piece of toast from the stack. "That's the most forth-right complement I'll ever receive from him."

Brooke smiled at her. They were both dressed in similar plain shirts and jeans. "Better cherish the moment then, right?"

Ginny giggled. "Suppose so," she munched thoughtfully on a piece of toast, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "Ready for your flying lesson?" she asked with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

Making a face, Brooke glared jokingly at Ginny. "Cute, Gin." she sat back in her chair, wiping crumbs from her white shirt as she looked out of the kitchen window. "Looks like a nice day for flying."

Ginny followed her gaze; the sky was a cloudless blue, and the leaves of a tree rustled with the help of a gentle breeze.

"It is a perfect day," a male voice said behind them, startling both Ginny and Brooke. "-could I join you?"

Brooke whirled around, eyes narrowed and her body tensed as they faced the person who owned the voice. Emerald eyes, hidden by glasses and a lock of black hair, looked at both of the girl's expectantly, the haunted look, although diminished, still present in his expression.

"Harry," Ginny chided gently, her lips curled in a small smile. "Don't sneak up on us."

He shrugged, walking the rest of the way down the stairs. Brooke's eyes were still narrowed; he barely made any noise at all. She was reminded vaguely of a panther as she watched him walk over and sit next to Ginny; his movements were graceful, but deliberate, as if he was constantly aware of how he was moving. The black shirt and pants he was wearing helped with the imagery. Brooke suddenly shivered; yes, there was definitely something dark about Harry Potter.

His attention moved from Ginny to Brooke, his brows furrowed in concentration. "You must be the exchange student Mrs. Weasley mentioned last night." he looked apprehensively at her as he said, "It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," she said carefully, noticing how he was nervously flipping his attention to Ginny then back to her. "I'm Brooke."

He seemed to hesitate. "Harry Potter," he said carefully, adjusting his glasses.

Suddenly Brooke couldn't control the small grin that spread across her face. "I hadn't noticed," she told him as she crossed her arms across her chest. "Forgive me if I don't ask you for an autograph."

"Just as long as you don't ask for anything else," he muttered, not missing a beat as he sat back in his chair with a far away look in his eyes. Brooke looked thoughtfully at him, trying to understand where the comment had come from. She almost didn't notice the look of sympathy Ginny was sending to him.

It suddenly came to her, like a flash of light; he must have thought she was attracted to him. Brooke had to admit to herself, although rather grudgingly, that she could see more clearly now what the girls back home had seen in Harry Potter. In the flesh, Harry was handsome, with a body shape built from playing Quidditch for all these years, and a hardness that only could have come from the tragic life he was presently living. If Brooke had been a normal girl (which she thanked everyday she wasn't) she may have found herself going weak in the knees and her heart increasing at a rapid rate. But Brooke was not a normal girl, and although he was rather attractive, she knew a perfect exterior was very capable of holding a demonic interior.

"Calm down, hot shot." Brooke grinned a bit again, chasing away the dark thought. "I won't ask for a piece of your clothing or to carry your child. Personally, I don't know you well enough for that."

Harry seemed to relax drastically, the hard lines of his face softening a bit. "Uh...thanks," he said, giving her a tentative smile.

Ginny, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, suddenly burst out laughing, "Poor Harry," she choked out, grinning at him. "You should have seen the look on your face!"

Harry grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, I'm just use to most girls falling all over me."

"If it makes you feel better---" Brooke began as a hand clamped over her mouth.

"Don't," Ginny warned with a twinkle in her eyes. "Harry can't stand all the publicity.

"Anyways," she continued as she removed her hand from Brooke's mouth. "Let's get out into the sky; make sure you tie your hair back Brooke," Ginny instructed her, eyeing the girls long dark brown hair. "You don't want it getting into your way."

"Sure thing," Brooke said, taking the hair tie from around her wrist and quickly pulling her hair into a low ponytail.

Ginny giggled. "Come on you two," she said as she pulled them away from the table. "Let's get going

* * *

I swear, Brooke thought furiously as she stormed down the stairs. I'm going to kill Fred and George this time.

She stopped at the mirror at the bottom of the stairs, glancing at her reflection for a moment. She had gotten slightly tan from her all day Quidditch 'training' session, plus a few bruises when the playing got a little too physical. About midday, Brooke was finally introduced to Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger; Ron joined the three in the sky, while Hermione was just content to watch from the ground. All in all, including the excitement Ginny now had on the Gryffindor season with Brooke possibly on the team, it had been a very successful day.

Brooke had enjoyed her stay here. Mrs. Weasley was the best cook she had ever met ("You have to gain some weight, dear!" she had exclaimed one day as Brooke nibbled on some toast. "You're all skin and bones!") And, as annoying as the twins were, they were rather hilarious. Until now.

"Fred!" Brooke shouted from the bottom step as she tried knotting her tie at the same time. "George! I want my wand back!"

One of the twins looked up from the couch. "Aw! An ickle first year," he said in an overly sweet voice. He grinned as he appraised her uniform. "You look positively adorable."

Brooke glared at him, her hands on her hips. "My wand," she demanded pointedly, "Now."

"It's over there, love." Fred (or was it George?) grinned at her from his position on the couch, pointing to a wand sitting on the table.

"If that thing turns unto another one of your damned chickens, I swear to God--" She pointed to the innocent looking wand but dropped her threat just as he fell of the couch, laughing like a mad man.

She sighed, calming herself. He's just trying to make you mad, she thought as she walked over to the table and cautiously picked up the wand. Glaring at him, Brooke gave the wand a tentative wave. The wand promptly changed into a bouquet of flowers. Brooke felt her jaw tighten as she gave him a deadly look.

He was laughing again, thoroughly enjoying himself. "It was all George's plan," Fred told her. "You could scare a bloke staring at him like that, love."

Brooke's only response was to roll her eyes, placing a hand out expectantly. "I want my wand back," she stated. "I'm serious. We're leaving in a bit and I want to make sure I don't leave it behind."

"Oi, Fred!" someone yelled from the front hall. "Help Ron an' Harry with their trunks."

Fred bounced up from the floor, grinning. "Sorry, have Ginny help you look for it."

It was lucky he left as quickly as he did, because Brooke chucked the fake wand (flowers and all), at his head. The retaliation attempt would have worked wonderfully, if Harry hadn't of walked into the room where Fred had just exited.

"Is my...?" he got out before being bombarded with purple and white petals right in his face. "Ugh!" he exclaimed, spitting out bits of the flowers. "Have you gone mad?" he asked her furiously, a glint of surprise in his eyes.

Brooke covered her embarrassment by replanting her hands on her hips and stating, "Tell Fred and George, if I don't get my wand back in exactly one minute, under everything they hold holy, I will make sure they regret the day they crossed me."

Harry only stared at her, muttering under his breath about 'crazy Americans' and their 'throwing arm' as he left the room. Brooke was ready to storm after him in search for the twins when Ginny passed by in a rush.

"Oh!" Ginny spotted Brooke. "You look like a proper English school girl now!"

Brooke grimaced, tugging down her pleated gray skirt. "I'm not enjoying this that much."

"Your tie's a bit crooked," Ginny told her as she made her way over to Brooke. "Let me tidy it up a bit."

Brooke looked enviously at Ginny's uniform. Instead of the black Hogwarts tie around her neck and the black sweater that was waiting for Brooke upstairs, Ginny had her Gryffindor colored stripped tie tucked neatly under her v-neck gray sweater trimmed with red and gold. Her white shirt was neatly pressed and tucked into an even more neatly pressed pleated skirt. In Brooke's opinion, Ginny looked better than she ever would in the uniform.

"I look horrible in black," Brooke told her as Ginny adjusted her tie. "Where did you get yours?"

"At Hogwarts," Ginny said with a gleam of amusement in her eyes as she finished. "You'll get yours after the feast."

"Girls," Mrs. Weasley shouted. "Nearly through?"

"Almost!" Ginny shouted back, smiling brightly as she grabbed Brooke's hand. "Come on, we have to finish getting ready."

"George and Fred have my wand," Brooke told her with a grimace. "I can't leave without it."

Ginny frowned slightly. "Let me speak to them. I'll meet you upstairs."

Brooke sent Ginny a grateful look as she headed upstairs. "Thanks Gin. I appreciate it."

Climbing the stairs to Ginny's room, Brooke pushed open the door and walked inside. Her sweater, ironed by Mrs. Weasley last night, was lying on her closed trunk. Picking it up, Brooke pulled it quickly over her head, making sure not to mess up her hair. Adjusting the sleeves and her tie, Brooke then turned to her robes.

"I have it!" Ginny exclaimed as she burst through the open doorway, wand in hand. "George handed it to me." With an apologetic look, Ginny smiled. "Sorry about that; you learn to get use to these 'jokes', and keep things locked!"

"Thanks Gin." Brooke smiled in obvious relief as she took her wand from Ginny. Feeling the smooth, warm wood under her fingertips once more, Brooke felt joy dance through her. Losing her wand was like losing a part of herself; but it wasn't hers technically. She had inherited from her brother, but it still meant a lot to her. Waving it once through the air, Brooke caused a splash of dark blue, green and silver to emit from the tip and it filled the still dimly lit room with light. Still holding it protectively in her hands, Brooke tucked her wand carefully into her robe's pocket still lying on her trunk.

"Stop showing off." Ginny grinned teasingly at her, picking up Brooke's robes as she tossed them to her. "Let's see your robes with the proper uniform this time."

"You sound more excited about this than I do," said Brooke grinning. She held the robes by the shoulder and letting it fall out in front of her, admiring her handiwork. If there was one thing she was excellent at, it was her magical sewing.

"I just want to see the look on everyone's face when you walk in wearing altered robes." Ginny clapped her hands together in anticipation, grinning as she packed her own robes in a shoulder bag. "Professor McGonagall is going to have a field-day with this one."

Brooke smiled. "You're picking up my habits of speech already? I'm touched."

"Only if you keep swearing like you did downstairs yesterday, only next time say 'bloody hell'."

Brooke giggled, remembering the 'fight' she had had with the twins. "It doesn't sound right, with my American accent."

"That's why it's funny," Ginny prompted her with her hands. "Get a move on! I want to see them!"

"Alright, alright," said Brooke, pretending to grumble as she unclasped the front of the robe and pulled her arms through the long sleeves. Shaking out the folds (a cloud of dust followed; she had bought the robes second-hand) and re-clasping the front, Brooke spread her arms, turning to model for Ginny. "Well?" she asked with a nervous glance.

Ginny giggled, clapping her hands again. "You look marvelous!"

"Really?" Brooke glanced around the room, looking for a mirror. "Do you have a mirror around here?"

"In the hall." Ginny grinned as she packed some books into her trunk.

"Thanks." Brooke turned and stepped towards Ginny's doorway. Ron was just coming up the stairs as she entered the hallway.

He raised an eyebrow at her appearance, but only said, "Mum wants to start bringing our trunks down."

"I think we're ready," Brooke told him, ignoring his staring as she gestured back into Ginny's room. "At least, I am."

He nodded, passing her to enter Ginny's room. Brooke continued down the hallway with a little shake of her head, grinning as she paused in front of the mirror as it exclaimed shrilly. "That's not the proper uniform!"

She stayed silent, gazing at her sewing as she ran a hand carefully down the front of her robe. "I have to give you props on this one, Lockheart." she grinned, looking at the embroidery and alterations that, even with the help of a wand, had taken all summer.

Silver stars, milky white moons and golden suns played across the collar, shimmering dully in the dim light of the hallway. After learning the school colors, Brooke had used metallic red, yellow, blue and green threads to recreate her favorite constellations near the bottom of her robes. The robes before had been (in her opinion) ill fitted and on a whim, Brooke had taken them in a bit and had placed slits up the sides (Ginny had gasped in surprise when Brooke had shown her) to make it easier to walk in. The arms were atrociously large, so they were changed so that they hugged her arms a bit more snuggly. The effect, altogether, made it look more like a dress than anything else.

At least it's a stylish dress, Brooke thought with a smile, fingering the Hogwarts logo on her tie. And at least it's different from everyone else.

The world suddenly turned dark as something was crammed down on her head. "Hey!" she exclaimed, laughing a bit. "I can't see!"

"At least you look like a proper witch now," Ginny's voice teased as the object was pulled off from over her eyes, revealing it to be Brooke's pointy hat (which she had left a plain black).

Brooke grinned, readjusting the pointy hat now sitting on her head. "So do I look okay then?"

Ginny nodded then pulled off the hat again. "I should be jealous," she teased. "But I won't be."

Brooke looked at her quizzically. "Why?" she asked, taking her hat from Ginny.

"Because knowing Professor McGonagall, she might just give you a detention!"

Brooke made a face, hoping it hid the now glazed look in her eyes. "I've had worse; we better get our things to the car."

Mr. Weasley had borrowed a car from the ministry for the occasion. "George and Fred already took care of it," Ginny told her with a smile. "There are advantages to having brothers. But you better put those things away." Ginny motioned to the hat and robe. "We can't wear them through the muggle station."

Brooke nodded, unclasping the robe so she could shrug out of them. "Is my duffel bag still in your room?"

"I think you put it in your trunk last night," Ginny told her as they made their way back to her room. "I have a bag you can loan off me. You'll want a proper school bag for your classes."

Brooke gave her a grateful smile. "What would I do without you?"

Ginny grinned. She entered her room and pointed to a empty shoulder bag in the corner. "You can use that one right there," she told Brooke, shouldering her own bag. "My robes are already in this one."

A minute later, Brooke slung a brown bag over her shoulder then made her way down to the front of the Burrow with Ginny. Fred and George were busy helping their father load five large trunks into the trunk of the car, while Harry, Ron and Hermione were exchanging good-byes with Mrs. Weasley. Harry was standing next to a cage with a pure white owl hooted softly, where as the cage Ron was holding had a tiny blur flying in chaotic circles, making an awful racket that was causing the cage Hermione was holding to shake violently.

"That's Pig," Ginny explained to Brooke, pointing to the cage Ron was now kicking. "Ron's pet owl. He's a bit excitable."

"A bit?" Brooke inquired.

"Now you three," Mrs. Weasley was saying, ignoring the noise the teenagers' pets were making. "No getting yourself in another mad scheme this year. The Headmaster can take care of anything that happens."

She handed each of them a brown paper bag, which Brooke suspected held a lunch of some sorts. She noticed that Harry, Ron and Hermione were all giving each other a knowing look as they accepted the lunches and a hug from Mrs. Weasley. They seemed to have some secret going on between them.

Of course they would, Brooke concluded as she and Ginny were noticed for the first time. They've probably been fighting Voldemort all summer. It makes sense, actually.

"I knew as soon as she showed up." Ron gestured to Brooke, a teasing look thrown their way. "Ginny would take eons longer than she normally would."

Brooke smiled a bit. She still wasn't sure what to think of them yet, and wasn't too comfortable with messing around with them like she was able to with Ginny.

Funny, she thought as she glanced at the other girl. I've only known her for a few days, and I'm considering her my best friend already.

"You two ready then?" Mrs. Weasley walked over to them, two bags identical to the others in her hand, "Be careful this year, dear," she told her daughter as they exchanged a hug and a kiss. "I know you'll be alright, but keep an eye open, alright?"

"Yes, Mum," Ginny promised, accepting her lunch from her mother.

"I don't know you well enough." Mrs. Weasley turned to Brooke at last. "but I feel you're one to stir things up." she had a twinkle in her eyes as she passed the last lunch to Brooke. "Just don't get in over your head."

"I won't," Brooke promised, and awkwardly returned a hug. How long has it been since I've ever gotten a hug? She thought with a slight wince from the not-so familiar physical contact.

"They ready, then?" Mr. Weasley walked out of the house wearing muggle clothing, kissing his wife on the cheek as he passed by. "I'll see them off."

"Have a good term!" Mrs. Weasley yelled, waving at all of them as they piled into the car. The twins had joined their mother outside, waving as the car began to pull away.

"Don't worry, Brooke," George yelled after the car with a devilish grin. "We'll send your cauldron by owl!"

* * *

Reaching King's Cross Station took seemingly little time, for Ginny and Ron occupied most of the journey with animated stories and jokes directed towards Brooke, who was listening with half her attention. Her attention was focused on Harry, whose eyes were glazed over as he stared out the window at nothing, while a concerned Hermione watched him silently.

Wonder what's going on there, Brooke thought with a slight frown, then clenched her hands together tightly when Pig began screeching insanely from his cage, aggravating Crookshanks even more. Hermione had apologized for her cat at the beginning of the trip, but it was still annoying.

Brooke pulled her attention back to the Weasley's, who were laughing.

"You should have been there," Ginny was telling her. "Ron and Hermione going at it in the common room."

Hermione turned at the sound of her name. "What are you going on about?" she asked, Harry also turning his attention to them.

Ron waved a hand, grinning. "Only the time back in fourth year," he told her, causing a blush to appear on her cheeks.

"Well, if you hadn't had been a thick git," Hermione said viciously, but her eyes were shining with laughter. "That never would have happened."

"Come on, 'Mione," Ron pleaded as he placed an arm around her shoulders. "It wasn't all that bad."

Hermione snorted, but smiled all the same as she leaned her head against his shoulder. "It's too bloody early," she complained quietly, closing her eyes.

Ron kissed the top of her head with a smile as Ginny whispered to Brooke. "Those two have become so adorable."

"How long have they been a couple?" Brooke whispered back.

"Officially, since the middle of last year," Ginny said quietly, eyeing the couple. "It nearly never happened, until Harry talked Ron into taking Hermione to the ball with him."

Brooke thought about that, sitting back in her seat and glancing out the window next to her. She didn't notice the worried glance Ginny flashed her way as she slipped deeper into thought; was it possible to be young and be in love? Brooke wasn't sure. The only love she was aware of was from her brother, and that had had an unhappy ending. The thought brought a sad frown to her face. Brooke couldn't remember a time when she had been close to a guy besides her brother. She had never had crushes like a normal girl, and whenever someone seemed to show interest (Not that it happened very often, she thought with a deep scowl) it had always seemed natural to push them away.

A poke in her side startled her from her thoughts. "Sorry," Ginny apologized. "But you looked miles away."

Brooke managed a feeble smile. "No worries," she told Ginny. "Just thinking."

"About?" Ginny inquired, then quickly added, "I'm sorry; it's none of my business."

Brooke looked at the girl carefully, painfully aware that the others were now looking at them. "I'll tell you later," she promised. "When we're alone."

Ginny nodded as she blew a curl out of her eyes. "Alright." her eyes glanced out the window. "Oh! We're in London now."

Brooke followed the girl's gaze and saw the tall towering height of Big Ben. Part of her brain dimly began sprouting out information about the structure as the rest of her looked on in dumb awe.

I have to get out more often, Brooke thought vaguely, looking back at the towering structure as the car passed by. I miss sight seeing.

Ginny tapped her on the shoulder. "We're nearly there," she told Brooke as she ran a hand self-consciously through her hair. "It shouldn't be too long, if traffic isn't horrible."

Luckily, the Ministry's car seemed to be able to pass into spaces no normal car could dream to fit into. The traffic was getting heavier as they neared the station, with rows upon rows of cars waiting to reach the main doors. Crowds of people swarmed around the entrance, pushing trolley carts heavy with baggage. Billboards with advertisements in bright colors shifted as quickly as the movements of the crowd, and there didn't seem to be an end to the line at the ticket counter.

"Alright you lot," Mr. Weasley said as he managed to squeeze in-between two taxies. "I trust you will manage on your own in this mad crowd. I don't want to leave the car alone."

"We'll be fine, Mr. Weasley," Hermione promised, picking up Crookeshanks' cage at her feet as Ron removed his arm from around her.

Brooke opened the door and stepped out, smoothing down her skirt. Ginny followed after her, a wide grin on her face.

"I love this part," she told Brooke as they moved to get their trunks. "Wait till you see the train. It's absolutely brilliant."

Brooke grinned nervously, giving Ginny a hand as they lugged her trunk from the car. "How are we going to make it through this place with five trunks, two owls and an angry cat?"

"With as much subtlety as we can muster," Harry said from behind them, wheeling over a large trolley cart. "Need a hand?"

Both girls smiled gratefully at him as he helped them load the rest of the trunks onto the cart.

"We better get a move on," Harry told them as he placed Hedwig's cage on top of the trunks, then looking back to where Ron and Hermione were discussing something in low tones. "Don't want to be late."

Hermione, with the cage still in her hands, looked relieved as the cart neared them. "Crookshanks hates to travel," she said sadly, trying to calm the still hissing animal through the bars. "I reckon we best get to the train."

"Brilliant plan," Ron sighed, holding the now dented Pig's cage with a slightly ruffled (but not less quiet) Pig. "The sooner this thing shuts it, the better."

Harry took charge of the cart as they made their way through the station. Despite their 'subtle' tactics, people stared at them as they passed.

Brooke overheard a man comment. "It's that bloody group of boarding students again. They're coming by the masses today."

"Must be the start of term, then," another remarked. "I wonder which school."

Brooke gave Ginny a look, who giggled. "Alright, so we're not too subtle," she said with a wink. "Our platform should be up ahead."

"Which one is ours?" Brooke asked as she hesitated when they passed by the large screen in bright letters that showed all the platforms and leaving times. Her eyes scanned over each quickly, not seeing any name that looked remotely magical.

"It's not on the board," Ginny explained as she had to grab Brooke to pull her out of the way of a large cart and an irritated looking man. "I don't reckon the muggles would understand the meaning of platform 9 and ¾."

"Huh?" Brooke looked at Ginny oddly, wondering if she had heard right. "Platform 9 and ¾?"

Ginny smiled, nodding. "You'll see," she said when she saw the doubtful look on Brooke's face.

"Gin!" Ron called from a few feet ahead. "Come on!"

Ginny, her hand still attached to Brooke's arm, spotted her brother. "Ah, we must have fallen behind."

Brooke spotted Ginny's brother as well. He was standing near the barrier between the platforms 9 and 10, waving to both of them. Suddenly, she blinked and Ron was no longer there.

"What?" she blurted out, her mouth gaping open in shock.

"Watch," Ginny instructed, smiling as Harry and Hermione approached the barrier next, chatting as they neared the barrier, hit it and kept going until they disappeared.

Brooke's eyes widened in surprise. "Where?" she asked, finally realizing her mouth was hanging open and quickly closed it, her brows furrowed in thought.

Ginny laughed as she began walking towards the barrier, linking her arm through Brooke's. "Just look casual," Ginny told her as they neared the barrier. "It won't hurt."

Brooke didn't reply, her eyes straight ahead as the barrier loomed closer. "I'm trusting you, Gin," she said as they hit the barrier and, to Brooke's amazement, passed right through into yet another magical world.