Honey, Sometimes a Mother Just Knows

"Alright, Midgets, go about your business and meet me back here at five o'clock this evening. Stay out of trouble, don't get arrested, and don't break anything. That is all. Disperse."

The group of children, ranging from eleven to sixteen, barely gave Mary Mathilde III, the director of St. Mary's Wizarding Orphanage, a passing glance as they hurried off in various directions, eager to finish their Hogwarts shopping quickly and have some free time. Most of the children meandered about in groups, but one solitary girl, nose buried in her Hogwarts letter, stayed rooted to the spot and took no notice that she was suddenly quite alone in the crowd of shopping witches and wizards.

The director, however, did notice. "Emery," Mary ventured, unsure if the eleven-year-old blonde was even listening. Apparently not, considering she did not even acknowledge the director. "Emery!"

"Huh?" The child looked up from her letter to train her amazingly blue eyes on the head of her orphanage. "Yes, Ms. Mathilde?"

"The others are already gone. Will you be alright by yourself?"

"Hmm?" Emery looked about. "So they are. Yes, I'll be fine, Ms. Mathilde. Thank you for your concern. If you'll excuse me, I've some items I need to purchase."

"Oh, of course, dear. Be back here by five," Mary repeated, in case the girl had not heard the first time.

"Yes, ma'am." And Emery vanished into the crowd of kids and parents.

"What a strange girl," Mary Mathilde muttered to herself, shaking her head.

**

Said strange girl quickly tucked her letter into her coat pocket and made her way unobtrusively through the throng of people crowding the streets. Ten minutes later, Emery had finally managed to navigate her way to the front of a snowy white building towering over the smaller shops around it. She walked up the steps and passed through two sets of huge double door, one bronze, one silver, before finding herself in the lobby of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. The goblins inside paid the small preteen no mind, which was just as well to her.

Immediately locating a somewhat kind looking goblin teller without a customer, Emery walked up to the desk. Unfortunately, Emery was rather short for her age, and the counter was rather unusually high, so she couldn't be seen over it. "Excuse me," Emery said, waving her hand above the counter. She took a few steps back so the goblin could see her. "Excuse me!"

"Yes?"

"I'd like to take some money from my vault." Emery had a rather substantial inheritance stored away in her vault. Luckily, her mother had been smart enough to make it possible for Emery and only Emery to remove money from it. No grubbing, stealing foster parents for Emery, no sir.

"Do you have your key, young miss?"

"Right here, sir." She pulled a shiny key from her coat pocket and attempted to hand it to the teller, but could not reach high enough to deposit it on the counter.

"Here, let me help you," a kind woman with blonde hair said, taking the key from Emery and handing it to the goblin teller.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Oh, no, not a problem," the woman said, in her dreamy voice. "Usually there are invisible groblehooks around to help people with problems like these, I don't know where they've gone today."

Emery raised an eyebrow at the clearly mental witch. "Erm, sure. Thanks anyway," she said over her shoulder as she hurried after the goblin teller. "Bye."

Mental, that one, she thought to herself as she climbed into the railway cart.

"Hold on tightly, Miss Miller," the goblin told her. Emery already knew that. Some of the older kids at the orphanage had talked once about the first time they took money from their vaults at Gringotts, and holding on tightly had been one of the tidbits of advice they'd passed on to the younger children. So, clutching tightly to the sides of the cart, Emery closed her eyes and settled back for the ride.

By the time the cart stopped in front of Emery's vault, she was fairly sure she was going to be ill. She'd never been fond of the roller coasters that her father's Muggle family used to take her on, but this was infinitely worse. She climbed out of the cart on shaky legs when it finally came to a stop, and leaned against the wall for support while the goblin unlocked her family vault.

Her mum had been from an old pure wizarding family, an only child, the last Slater. For marrying a muggle, her grandparents had disowned her mother, but luckily, she'd been a Slytherin at Hogwarts and had managed to reacquire the Slater family fortune after Lord and Lady Slater's deaths. That fortune was now starring her in the face. Inside were mounds of silver, gold and bronze coins, jewels and other priceless treasure, more money then one hundred families could spend in a ten lifetimes. She pulled a small bag - charmed to weigh next to nothing regardless of what was in it - from her backpack and filled it with enough Galleons, Sickles and Knuts to last her the term. That finished, Emery stepped back out of the vault and waited while the goblin locked back up. The return trip to the surface was quite as nauseating as trip down and Emery was beyond grateful when it was over. She retrieved her key from the Goblin and hurried back out into the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley.

**

The first place Emery went after exiting Gringotts was to Ollivanders Wand Shop. The bell over the door jingled as she entered and dust rose from the floor on every step she took. She wasn't surprised when a soft "Good afternoon" came from behind her. After all, she'd lived for three years at the Orphanage and had heard many a tale about the first time shopping in Diagon Alley. She turned to face Mr. Ollivander and returned his hello with one of her own.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander. I would like to purchase a wand."

"Of course you would, dear, of course you would. Please hold out your wand arm, Miss?"

"Miller, sir, Emery Miller," Emery said, holding her right arm out.

"Ah, yes, Lucy Slater's daughter. Terribly sorry to hear about your mother dear. Lovely woman, lovely wand. Twelve inches. Oak. Hair of a baby unicorn. Very sturdy, that wand. Dependable, just like your mother. Seems like only yesterday she was in here. Took her ages to find that wand. Must've gone through two-dozen candidates before she happened across that one herself. Very inquisitive, your mother. Refused to just stand there while I looked for a wand for her. Went gallivanting off through the stacks. I came across her waving the wand about, making a rainbow in the air. She said it had called to her, and who was she to ignore it? Got a nice telling off from her stuffy aristocratic Pureblood mother. Always rather suspected that one would be the one to break the Slater traditions. Must say I'm glad she did."

Throughout his little recollection of her mother, Mr. Ollivander was browsing through boxes whilst the charmed tape measure measured Emery. He stopped talking a moment and pulled out a box, returning to Emery's side. "Ah, yes, here. Try this one, dear. Eleven and a half inches, yew, dragon heartstring. Nice and springy."

Emery took the wand from the box and gave it a wave. It emitted a puff of foul smoke and Ollivander shook his head, muttering, "No, no, not that one, definitely not that one."

Ten more wands they went through in this fashion before Ollivander sighed. "Going to be as difficult as your mother, are you? I don't suppose you hear any wands calling to you?"

Emery concentrated for a moment, but shook her head negatively. She rather suspected she was too straight laced for the wands to talk to her as they apparently had her eccentric mother.

"No of course not," Mr. Ollivander sighed. "Oh well, dear. We'll just keep trying."

Keep trying turned into twenty four more wands and Emery was rather sure they were never going to find a wand for her. Perhaps, she was a squib and no one knew it?

"Here, here, I'm sure it's this one. Ten and three quarters inches. Pink ivory wood. Sliver of a Basilisk's fang core. Rigid." Emery took the wand from him, ignoring his eager expression, and waved it. All the boxes in the room arranged themselves in perfect order, papers stacked themselves neatly, and dust disappeared, leaving the place neat and tidy. "Yes! I was sure it was that one. This is most impressive, Miss Miller. Most impressive. This is the strongest reaction a wand has had to a witch or wizard in many a year. A peculiar reaction as well."

"Not really, Mr. Ollivander," Emery said. "I merely thought to myself that the place could use some tidying up and here we are."

"Curious, curious." Mr. Ollivander didn't seem the slightest offended. "This is a very rare wand, Miss Miller. It was the last wand to ever be made of pink ivory wood. The week after I completed it, pink ivory was banded as a wand making substance due to its rarity in the world. And that basilisk's fang inside it? Came from the very creature slain by Mr. Harry Potter in his second year. Quite a unique wand, Miss Miller. I'll expect great things from you. Great things. Just to be certain, you don't have any megalomaniac like impulses to speak of, do you dear?"

Emery gave him a withering look. "My father was a Muggle," was all she said. She wasn't stupid enough to not catch the implied comparison. Mr. Ollivander had the good grace to blush a bit under her stare. "Yes, yes, dear, I'm aware. Can't be too sure, you know. Anyway, come, come. Let's get that wand wrapped up for you. That'll be eight Galleons, Miss Miller. Thank you, dear. There you go. Have a wonderful day, Miss Miller. I'll expect great things from you!" This last was shouted out the door as it closed behind Emery, the jingling of the bell her only response.

**

Emery recovered from her unusual encounter with Ollivander over ice cream at Florean Fortescue's, and had another unusual encounter while she was at it. While she ate her ice cream, she people watched, observing the mothers and fathers taking their children school shopping, the young men and women browsing the stores, the married couple debating over what to buy at the fruit stand across the street. So wrapped up in her observations, Emery failed to notice the blonde woman sit down beside her at the table until she spoke. "It's fascinating to just watch them isn't it? Like fish in a pond."

Emery whipped around to stare at her. "You're the woman from Gringotts. The one who helped me give my key to the goblin."

"Luna Lovegood-Scamander," the woman introduced herself, holding out a neatly if somewhat oddly manicured hand. She had radishes painted on her nails.

"Emery Slater-Miller," she said, shaking the woman's hand.

"You're a first year at Hogwarts this year, aren't you," Mrs. Scamander said more than asked.

Emery answered anyway. "Yes."

"Oooh, do you know what house you might be in?" Luna - it was hard to think of this woman in anything resembling formal tones, she just couldn't bring herself to think of her as Mrs. anything - breathed.

"Well," Emery said slowly. "My mother was a Pureblood, so she was in Slytherin. But my father was a Muggle, and I've heard Slytherin rarely takes half-bloods. I don't think I'd make a good Hufflepuff. Gryffindor would be okay I suppose, though the ones I know are quite a rowdy bunch. I suppose Ravenclaw would fit me best."

"Mmm, I was a Ravenclaw," Luna said. "Yes, I think you'll be a Ravenclaw. You keep to yourself a lot. And you seem rather smart and mature. Thinking about it from all the different angles. Analytical. Yes, Ravenclaw will suit you. My son Lysander will be Ravenclaw. His brother, Lorcan will probably be Slytherin though. Lorcan was always the one stealing cookies from the cookie jar as a child while Lysander had his head in a picture book."

Emery wonder for a brief moment how Luna knew she preferred her solitude, then realized that Luna had seen her twice today at least, both times alone, unaccompanied by even an adult. She shrugged. So she found her fellow Orphans somewhat drab and unintelligent, so what?

"Are your sons starting Hogwarts this year, Miss Luna?" Emery asked.

"Yes, in fact they should be around here somewhere with their father. Maybe you would like to meet them? But no, of course, you have other things to do. And you'll see quite a lot of them during the school year, no doubt. Best take the time you have free of them now. I suspect you three will become quite close, dear. Best be off now. And watch out for the bucktoothed Dizzlekrips. They'll steal your jewelry if you're not careful."

Emery wondered at Luna's apparent ability to hold a conversation all to herself, and quickly assured her that she would indeed watch out for the bucktoothed Dizzlekrips. As she meandered away to Twilfitt and Tatting's - she wasn't being snobby, she just liked their robes better than Madam Malkin's - she looked over her shoulder to see Luna embracing a tall, shaggy brown haired man, two boys identical save that one was blond and one brunet standing on either side of them. "Who was that, mum?" she heard one of them ask. "She was pretty," the other said.

"Oh, you'll find out on September 1^st, Lore, Lye, don't worry about that," Luna giggled. Emery suddenly felt very weary of the Scamander family, Luna Lovegood in particular.

Entering Twilfitt and Tatting's, Emery barely had time to look around and admire the elegance before a snobby store clerk bombarded her with "And who might you be?", sizing her up and clearly finding her lacking.

Emery sized her up in return, realizing the only way to get service in this place was to respond, "Emery Slater."

"Slater." The woman gapped. "Slater! Oh, Miss Slater, of course. Silly little me, I should have known. And what marvelous Slater blonde hair you have, Lady Slater. Macy Marco's the name. Please right this way, just step up here and I'll get you all sorted out." She assisted Emery onto a dais in front of a mirror and hurried off into the back room.

Inside Emery was cringing in disgust at the shallowness of this woman. A mere mention of her mother's name and the woman apathy turned to overflowing goodwill. It was -

"Disgusting, isn't it? The way they fawn over you when they learn your name, when otherwise they wouldn't give a damn."

Emery turned to regard the boy standing on the fitting dais beside her. He was tall, and pale, with very white blond hair. His features were regal and pointed and it wasn't at all difficult to know who he was. His resemblance to his father was really quite uncanny.

"It is," Emery agreed. "I had almost contemplated leaving when I saw her looking at me like that. But I've wanted robes from here for longer than I can remember, and this is the first time I can have them. My mother refused to shop here, but she's not alive to stop me anymore. So really, I guess I'll have to bear the hypocrisy for a while longer."

"Ha, I like you, kid," he laughed, a pleasant sound and Emery smiled. He held out his hand and she shook it.

"Scorpius Malfoy, Hogwarts fifth year, Ravenclaw Prefect and Chaser on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team."

"Emery Miller, Hogwarts First year, abysmal flyer, and prospective Ravenclaw if that Scamander woman is to be trusted."

"Luna Scamander? Oh yes, she's crazy as a bat but very rarely wrong about things like that. Well, I suppose if Luna Scamander says you're Ravenclaw, I ought to welcome you to my house, kid."

"Thank you." I think, she added mentally.

After that, things went swimmingly. It was relatively easy for Emery to ignore Mary Marco the Merry Salesgirl while she and Scorpius chatted idly and he ignored his salesgirl as well. He told her all about Hogwarts, describing the school and the Common rooms. He had friends in all houses, and had been in all four common rooms. The teenager was warm and friendly to her, treating her like an equal and not a child (teasing kids aside) and she found herself admiring his intelligence and thorough descriptions of the castle, the classes, the teachers, and the students. Before she knew it, the fittings were done and their salesgirls were assuring them that their robes would be finished and sent to their residencies before September 1^st. Scorpius and Emery left the shop together.

"Well, kid, I gotta go meet my parents for lunch, and you still have shopping to do I wager. It was great meeting you and I do hope Luna was right about you being in my House. See ya on the train!" Scorpius called, waving goodbye to her as he hurried away.

"Bye! Have a nice lunch!" Emery waved back.

**

Thankfully, the rest of Emery's day was not as eventful. She bought her school books at Flourish and Blotts, a cauldron at Pottidge's Cauldron Shop, and a set of crystal vials at Slug and Jiggers Apothecary. All that being down, she headed back to the Leaky Cauldron, where she figured she could grab a bite of supper while she waited for the rest of the Orphanage to regroup.

On her way to the Leaky Cauldron, she passed by Eeylops Owl Emporium. Stopping, she considered. She'd never had a pet before and the Orphanage did allow Hogwarts students to have owls, cats, and toads. She hated cats, toads were yucky, but an owl might be nice. She wouldn't be sending letters to anyone or receiving any, so maybe a small pet owl. Deciding, she hefted her bags and walked into the store. Owls of all shapes, sizes, colors and breeds stared back at her. A harried looking assistant came over to her.

"Hello, little miss. Can I help you?" he asked.

"Hello. I'd like to buy an owl. I was wondering do you perhaps have any that are more like pets and less like carrier pigeons? I don't really have any need for a delivery owl, but I would like a...pet is such a crass word. Companion, sounds much better," Emery said.

The man stared at her in bewilderment for a moment. Emery stood back and waited for it to pass, as she usually did when such a thing occurred. "Right, yes, miss, just this way," he said, snapping out of it and leading her into the back. An assortment of medium sized owls in various colors stared back at her. "These are our finest owls, bred for companionship and obedience."

Emery looked the owls over, noting that each one seemed very haughty and snobbish, their little beaks in the air. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a flash of white. Turning, she noticed a cage pushed far back in a corner. She stepped over to it and examined the owl inside. Its wings were a shadowy black color; its chest striped black and white; its eyes the deepest, darkest shade of ebony as they stared back at her. "I'll take this one," she breathed.

"Oh, miss, I don't think you'd want that one. Very stubborn, won't let anyone touch it, and bites all the time. I -" Whatever else the man was going to say was cut off as Emery reached for the lock on the cage and pulled the door open. The owl swooped out, made a circuit of the store and landed on Emery's outstretched arm, burying its beak in her blonde tresses. "Yes, well," the assistant sputtered, "I'll just ring that up for you shall I?"

"Hmm, yes, please," Emery murmured, stroking the feathers on the owl. What should I call you? she thought to herself, Let's see, well. You're very black, shadowy even. Many owls are named from mythology. If I remember correctly, mother's owl was named after the Greek goddess for war, Athena, because she was so fierce. Let's see, Greek...Erebus. The Greek god of darkness and shadow. That seems appropriate. "I'll call you Erebus," she said out loud. "Do you like that, boy?" The owl, henceforth known as Erebus, hooted softly and nuzzled her neck, nipping at her hair. "That tickles," she remarked. "Stop it." Erebus hooted, as if to say, make me, and did it again. "You are a stubborn one, aren't you boy?"

Slipping Erebus back into his cage, Emery took the bird to the register and paid, also buying some owl treats. The assistant still looked faintly amazed that the owl hadn't bitten her yet. Once outside the shop, Erebus nipped at the lock on the cage as if begging to be let out. "Not yet, boy, I'll let you out once we get back to the Orphanage, okay? Don't want you getting lost or hurt, do we, Erebus?" The owl ruffled his feathers, but settled down, content for now.

**

It was four twenty-five when Emery made it back to the Leaky Cauldron. She took a seat and placed Erebus on the chair next to her. A moment or two later, a pretty blonde witch in an apron hustled over to her. "What can I get you, miss?" Landlady Hannah Longbottom asked her.

"Fish and chips, please, Mrs. Longbottom, and tea," Emery said, pulling out some money and handing it to the harried looking woman. After writing down her order, Mrs. Longbottom hurried off to tend to the rest of the crowded pub. Emery pulled out one of her textbooks - The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk, updated by Hermione Weasley - and started to read through it while she waited. She was just through the chapter on Wingardium Leviosa when Mrs. Longbottom returned with her supper.

"Thank you, ma'am," Emery said, taking a sip of her tea.

"Oh, you're welcome dear," Mrs. Longbottom said. "Oh, starting Hogwarts this year are you?" she asked, gesturing to the book on the table. "My husband teaches there, you know."

"Yes, I'd heard that. Professor Neville Longbottom, Herbology, right?" Emery said, recalling what she'd overheard the older kids saying. They all thought it was very cool that his wife, son, and he lived above the Leaky Cauldron. If she remember correctly, Professor Longbottom's son, Frank, had started Hogwarts last year; sorted into Hufflepuff she thought.

"Yes, it was always his best subject. He's very good with plants. They just seem to take to him."

"I do hope he's good at teaching others to be good with plants, because I'm rubbish with them myself," Emery confessed.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll do fine, dear. If you work hard and do your homework, Neville will forgive any practical mishaps." She leaned down as though to tell a secret. "He was rubbish in Potions, you know. Blew up cauldrons all the time. So trust me, he'll understand a natural lack of talent."

Emery chuckled as Mrs. Longbottom hurried off, hoping she was right; she really couldn't deal well with plants.

**

At around five o'clock the rest of the Orphanage kids started trickling back into the pub. Emery carried her plate and cup up to the bar and handed it to Mrs. Longbottom with a "Thank you for the meal, Mrs. Longbottom. It was delicious." She gathered her bags and her owl and stood with the others in front of the fireplace, waiting to Floo back to St. Mary's. By tradition, the older students went first, and Mrs. Mathilde went last, checking to make sure every child got back. When it was her turn, Emery grabbed a handful of Floo powder, tossing it in and stepped into the green flames. "St. Mary's Wizarding Orphanage, London, England!" she enunciated clearly. In a flash of green she, her bags, and Erebus were gone.

**

She tumbled out into the Orphanage's foyer and made straight for the stairs to the room she shared with two other eleven-year-old girls, Cheryse Latona and Linley Grady. And really, no two people could be more different than Cheryse and Linley. Where Linley was incredibly intelligent - the top of the class at the Muggle elementary school the orphans all attended, and she would probably be top of the class at Hogwarts too - Cheryse was vapid and vain and very, very air headed. Where Cheryse was loud and obnoxious, Linley was quiet, reserved, and very shy. Where Cheryse was quite mean and judgemental, Linley was dreadfully polite to just about everyone. They were polar opposites.

Even their sides of the room were polar opposites, Emery thought as she entered their room. To best utilize space, the Orphanage had opted for bed/desk/wardrobe combos. There was one against each wall of the room but the one with the door. Directly across from the door was Cheryse's area Her bed was pink and frilly, covered with pillows and stuffed animals. Her bulletin board covered with waving pictures clipped from the girly magazines stacked on her desk. To the left Linley's area was bland and practical with a bed covered in a dark blue comforter and a white pillow. Her bulletin board had a few pictures of her parents and younger sister who had died when she was five. Her desk had stacks of books and parchment. Emery's area was a nice cross between the two. She had a deep purple comforter and a few stuffed animals. Picture of celebrities and her family covered the bulletin board. Her desk had magazines and books, and a Muggle laptop she'd convinced the Director to let her buy. The middle of the room was a neutral area, with a table and three chairs where the girls could - but rarely did - do things together.

Turning to the right, Emery went to her own area, dropping her things on her desk and letting Erebus out of the cage. She risked Cheryse's ire to open the window that stood beside her bed so Erebus could go out. "Be back by dark, Erebus, or you won't be able to get back in. Cheryse will close the window," Emery warned. The owl hooted in understanding and took off, diving toward the pavement and pulling up sharply just above the ground like a Wronski Feint in Quidditch. Emery shook her head at her owl and opened the trunk beside her bed, putting her school supplies in neatly. She had just closed the lid when the door opened and Linley came in.

"O-oh, Emery," the girl started, "I didn't know you were in here already."

"Yeah, I wanted to put my things away before Cheryse came back."

Linley laughed a bit at that. It was a well-known but sadly unproven fact that Cheryse was a bit of kleptomaniac.

"So, did you get your wand?" Emery asked.

Linley lit up. "Yes, isn't it beautiful?" she said, pulling it out. It was sleek and shiny, a deep dark brown, nearly black in color. "Twelve and a half inches, Ebony, dragon heartstring core, springy."

"It is beautiful," Emery nodded, the wood was very elegant and the handle was slim and polished, perfect for Linley.

"May I see yours?" Linley asked. Emery nodded, pulling her wand out and handing it to Linley.

"Ten and three quarters inches. Pink ivory wood. Sliver of a Basilisk's fang core. Rigid," Emery said, recalling what Ollivander had said.

"Oh it's so gorgeous. Pink ivory? I didn't even know they made wands out of this anymore."

"They don't," Emery assured. "Ollivander said he'd had it for a while. Apparently, it hadn't found a witch or wizard it liked yet. When he handed it to me, he said he knew it would be mine. When I waved it, it cleaned the shop."

Linley chuckled. "That sounds like something mine would have done, but I think I was in there after you. It did look a lot cleaner than the others had led me to believe it would be. When I waved mine, it just sparked a bit," she said, handing the pink wand back to Emery.

"Well, don't feel bad. Ollivander did say it was one of the strongest reactions he'd every seen a wand have to a witch. I gather sparks are rather more toward the norm."

"Yes, I know. I'm not worried. I know I'm intelligent enough to do well at Hogwarts. Academically anyway," Linley assured her. "I just find it interesting that the wand had such a strong reaction to you after years of sitting in that shop inactive. I bet Ollivander told you you're destined for great things, right?"

"Yeah, something like that," Emery said, pensive. Before the conversation could progress any further, Cheryse burst into the room and an argument over the open window ensued.

**

Two weeks later, on September 1^st at 10:30 AM, Emery and the other orphans made their way through King's Cross Station, pushing their trunks on trolleys, their owl cages spelled invisible to Muggles. They looked like an ordinary group of children off to boarding school. When they reached the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10, Mrs. Mathilde cast a charm to make the Muggles all look somewhere else while the students made their way through the barrier onto Platform 9 ¾.

Once onto the Platform, Mrs. Mathilde gave her customary speech to the kids about behaving, and succeeding, and how she better not get letters telling her they were setting things on fire. The older students had heard it before and the younger kids were too excited to listen so she was basically talking to herself. Realizing that, Mrs. Mathilde sent the children off to the train.

While most of the children went to the right, toward the head of the train, Emery headed to the left. She pushed her trolley along, looking for a good place to board the train. About five or six cars from the end, Emery saw a set of steps with no one in front of it. She took Erebus's cage off the trolley and carried it up the steps and into the first compartment she came across, which appeared to be empty. Going back outside, she went to unload her trunk, but it was gone. Blinking, it took Emery a moment to register the emptiness of the trolley, and when she did, she glanced around in a panic, looking for her missing trunk.

"We put it on the train for you," came a voice from behind her and she spun around. On the steps were two identical boys her age, with messy blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and pale-ish skin. They appeared rather dream-like but the sharpness in their eyes belayed that. They were the boys she had seen with Luna Scamander outside Florean Fortescue's two weeks ago.

"You're Emery Slater," the one on the right said.

"We're Lorcan and Lysander Scamander," the one of the left added.

"You met our mum in Diagon Alley," they said together.

Emery stared at them apprehensively. "Erm, yes, yes I did. And yes I am - Emery that is, though I go by Miller not Slater, or use a hyphen. Pleasure to meet you." I think.

"You too," they chorused.

"Anyway," the one on the left continued, "I'm Lorcan. Our mum told us we'd meet you here. Said we should get to know you. That we'd like you."

"She's usually right about these things," the other one - who must by Lysander - added.

"So we figured, why not?"

"And we saw you come out of the barrier -"

"And we watched you put your owl on the train - "

"And we figured we'd be nice - "

"And help you get your trunk on too - "

"It's in our compartment - "

"So you should come sit with us," Lorcan finished.

Emery reeled for a moment, mind still struggling to catch up and neck aching from snapping back and forth from one to the other. Blinking, she shrugged and followed them to their compartment. It was larger than she thought is should be and had probably been magically expanded by one of the older students already in there. Lorcan and Lysander sat down next to a boy with brown hair, brown eyes, and a tan that suggested frequent time outside. Looking about, Emery chose a seat next to a redheaded girl.

Lorcan took up the introductions. "Guys, this is Emery Slater, the girl mum told us about. Emery, this is Fred Weasley II, Seventh year, Gryffindor Beater." Fred was a redhead - looking about, Emery noted there were a lot of redheads - with a skin tone that suggested a parent of African descent. Lysander gestured to the girl next to Fred. "That's his sister, Roxanne, third year Hufflepuff. That's Lily Potter and Hugo Weasley. Third year Gryffindors." --a tall redheaded girl with green eyes and a boy with curly brown hair and blue eyes-- "Hugo's sister, fifth year Ravenclaw, Rose Weasley." Rose was a curly brown haired girl with brown eyes and thin, elegant glasses perched on her nose.

"Fifth year Slytherin Keeper, Albus Potter and sixth year Gryffindor Chaser, James Potter," Lorcan continued, pointing to a ginger haired, green-eyed boy and a messy black haired, brown-eyed boy with black glasses. "Sixth year Gryffindors, Molly and Lucy Weasley." The two girls were definitely twins, not identical, but close enough, with straight reddish brown hair and black eyes hidden behind glasses.

"Louis Weasley, fourth year Gryffindor." --a boy with silky blonde hair and bright blue eyes and a charming smile-- "His sister, Dominique, is Head Girl, so she's not here right now. She's at the Prefects meeting where Albus and Rose should be but always skip out on. Just imagine an older, girl version of Louis. Or if you know whom Fleur Delacour is, a younger shorter version of her. And now you've met the whole Weasley/Potter clan save Dominique, that there is Frank Longbottom, Hufflepuff second year." Frank was a slightly chubby boy with dirty blond hair and murky blue eyes.

"And these three," --a brown haired boy with a squarish jaw and a trace of Bulgarian accent (he said hello when Lysander gestured to him, as did the other two); a black haired boy with green eyes and an Irish accent; and a boy with brown hair, blue eyes, and Scottish accent-- "Are Alexsandar Krum, Blake Finnigan, and Michael Wood, fellow firsties like ourselves. We're a big and assorted group. You should see what the group reunions are like. This isn't even a quarter of the people when you add the graduated kids, the parents, the family friends without kids, the friends of family friends. It's a hell of an affair. Frankly, I feel sorry for you. Mum's apparently decided that you should be incorporated into our own little segment of the wizarding world."

By the end, Emery's head was reeling again, trying to imprint faces and names and houses and years into her memory. She watched the scenery role by. At some point throughout the introductions, the train had left the station. "Hello," she said. "I'm Emery Miller. It's a pleasure to meet you all."

"Sup Emery," the boy called Fred said, jerking his head at her and crossing his arms.

"Don't mind Fred," his sister said. "He spent a summer with Muggle relatives in Chicago and now he thinks he's ghetto."

"Shuddup, punk," Fred griped, uncrossing his arms and sulking like a little kid.

Fred was saved from Roxanne no doubt scathing reply by the compartment door sliding open with a thud. A blonde head popped in, followed by a body clad in Ravenclaw robes with a Prefect badge pinned to them. "Hey, Rosie, Al, I'd watch out if I were you. Dommie is out for blood over you two not being at the meeting. She takes it as a personal insult that her own family skipped out on her first meeting as Head Girl," Scorpius said, stepping into the compartment and closing the door behind him. In the sea of faces, it took him a moment to register Emery's presence. "Oh, hey, its you. Luna's Gringotts girl. How ya hanging, kid?"

"Wonderfully, Scorpius," Emery said, raising an eyebrow. "Just getting to know the masses."

Scorpius grimaced in sympathy. "Sorry, kid. I - " He was cut off by a terrible screeching sound.

"Oh my goodness!" Emery shouted. "Erebus! I totally forgot about my owl!" She jumped from the seat and dashed down the hallway to the compartment where she'd put Erebus. Inside she found two boys, with messy bright blue hair and blue eyes, mirror images of one another, running in circles from an angry black owl that was swooping around pecking at them. "Oh! Erebus!" she shouted. The owl immediately stopped attacking the boys and flew at Emery, landing on her outstretched arm.

"Bloody 'Ell, woman!" one shouted, Irish accent very noticeable.

"Control your bloody creature!" the other shouted.

"Sorry, sorry," she said, stroking Erebus's feathers to calm him. "Are you alright?"

The two shrugged themselves back into some semblance of order and looked at one another then at her. "Yeah, yeah, we're fine."

"Just great and dandy," the other said.

"Oh god," Emery moaned. "Not another set of twins."

They grinned. "Nope. Not another set o' twins. Devlin McKensie's the name. That's me cousin Maverick McKensie. Our dads are brothers. You can call me Dev."

"And you can call me Mav, pretty lady. What's your name?"

Are these bright haired Irish fools hitting on me? For god's sake, we're only eleven!

"Emery Miller," she said. "This is Erebus. And just what did you do to my owl to make him do that to you?" She pointed to the numerous scratches and pecks on their hands and their ripped sleeves.

"Er..."

"Nothing!" Mav shouted. "We just opened the cage and the bloody creature attacked us. What was it doing in 'ere?"

"I brought him in here, but ended up in another compartment. I hadn't yet come back for him. But now that I have, I'll be taking him with me. It was lovely to meet you. Have a pleasant journey." She grabbed the cage and left, shutting the door in two stunned faces.

She returned to her compartment and put the cage on top of her trunk. "I forgot my owl, Erebus," she said to the questioning looks. She sat him in her lap and stroked his feathers. Scorpius went to pet him. "I wouldn't," she stopped him. "He doesn't really like others. He attacked those blue haired cousins, the McKensies. That was the noise just then."

"Ooo, ouch," Molly said. "Owl pecks are painful. If you want, I can try and train him to work with people. I worked at an animal reserve this summer and we had a lot of anti social owls that needed caring for."

"Thanks, that'd be great...Molly," Emery said, a hint of triumph in her voice at remembering the girl's name.

"No problem. I love working with animals."

"She does," Lucy said. "She's the only one who actually likes going to Hagrid's class and working with those freaky, dangerous animals he always has around."

Emery's eyes widened and she made a mental note not to take Care of Magical Creatures come third year. Lucy and Molly began arguing over what counted as dangerous, the others jumped in on one side or the other and Emery sat back, observing this huge family and hoping she'd feel that warm sensation that comes with being surrounded by family again someday.