The Eighth Weasley

Notes: Yes, the famous Willow Weasley has come to Hogwarts.

I did consider adding in an annoying little prick like Malfoy, to do a line like the one above, cos every school I've ever been to (and that's quite a few) seems to have at least one arrogant prat like him, but I think sticking with canon characters may be easier at the moment, especially with so much happening. I'd hate to have to do the big and full intro on anyone else atm.

And, also, if the description of the school and Great Hall sound very familiar to you, that's because I'm cheating, taking JKR's words and fiddling them a teeny bit. The Philosopher's Stone is my loyal companion at the moment and is all thumbed cos of me being all referential and such.

And onto the actual story, none of the characters of which are mine.

All right, Leon Mzimba is, but he's not a major character. He's just a tribute to Lizo Mzimba of Newsround, who first brought Harry Potter to my attention (Thank you VERY much for giving me something else to drain my existence of time, Lizo :-P)

Also, mini-tribute to Echo here - you're the one who got me thinking about some of things that will come to pass further into the series, thanks to 'A Drop In The Ocean' so I seriously hope you don't mind! Also, apologies for not commenting on the new chs. I only get online at the labs and they seem to have realised I don't like being kicked out when I'm reading, so they do it more than ever. As an apology for a lack in reviewage, here, have a little Willow/Snape-meeting-sort-of-thing in here, especially for you :) It's entirely your fault!

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The wave of voices from the Great Hall hit the first years as the huge door swung open, allowing Willow Weasley, and the rest of the first years, to have her first view of the massive chamber, her eyes immediately flicking upwards to see if the ceiling was really as amazing as it sounded.

It was.

Ho boy, it was!

High above them, the moon shone down on the proceedings, stars dotted across the dark sky. Only if you looked very, very closely at it and ignored the puffs of silvery cloud could you see the high gables of the arched roof.

Candles hung in this air, long, thin and white, flickering with warm light. Hundreds of welcoming faces smiled at them from the four rows of tables lining the long hall, between which, they had to walk down the full length of the Hall.

Her eyes moving from the carved stone walls, to the elaborate windows and back to the ceiling and those magic candles that were bobbing in the air, Willow had to be poked in the back by one of the children behind her, before she started to move forwards, at the head of the group, the rest of them split into pairs.

She was still staring wonderingly around her, as she walked down, trying to take in everything at once, barely even noticing the voices whispering to each other as she passed the long tables.

"You don't think..."

"Nah...couldn't be..."

"Weasley...lost one..."

They came to a halt at the front of the hall, where a ragged, pointed hat sat on a three-legged stool. If you squinted at it, with your eyes half-closed, it really did look like it had a face.

The folds and creases moved, as the hall fell into silence and a tear along one side opened up. Lifting her eyes from the hat on the stool, Willow looked up towards the teacher's table, looking for familiar face, as the Sorting Hat began it's song.

Hagrid immediately waved down at her. Next to him, Lupin gave her a nod and a laconic raise of an eyebrow, making her grin, her eyes moving onto the witch next to him, who looked like she had jumping beans in her skirt.

Hermione's face was alight and she was smiling broadly down at Willow, her hands clasped in front of her chest. She appeared to be willing to leap over the teacher's table to run down and hug Willow.

"We've got a surprise for you!" She mouthed to the red-haired witch.

A prickle of nervousness ran down her neck. They weren't going to sabotage the Sorting Hat or anything, were they? Noticing her friend's look of apprehension, Hermione winked at her, still smiling as widely as ever.

Forcing herself to stop staring Hermione as if she suspected her to be mad and dangerous, she moved along the table, easily identifying Professor Flitwick, who was staring at her, wide-eyed, Professor Sprout and guessing on Professor Sinistra.

Another familiar face appeared in her line of sight and she doubled over, laughing out loud.

Clad in robes of baby blue and rose pink velvet, a pink carnation pinned to his blue cap, as she had challenged him to wear at the Weasley's family dinner party weeks before, Professor Dumbledore gave her a nod of acknowledgement, the twinkle in his blue eyes more pronounced than ever.

Moving onwards, she stopped short at a face she had never seen before, but knew none-the-less.

Professor Snape.

He looked just the same as he had in the description in the first of the books, his hair lank and greasy around his sallow face, his nose hooked and very Roman-like, but it wasn't as big as she expected, that was for sure.

For some reason, she had the image of him with a nose that took up almost all of his face, but no, there it was. All Roman and aquiline and currently flaring in the nostril region, which was very hard to miss, because they were very large nostrils.

She snickered, but it faded when she realised that - despite the fact that his eyes were half-closed - he was watching her.

Like the other teachers, he was studying her, but there was no emotion that she could see in his pale features, his black eyes locked onto her face. It was almost like he was taking her apart with those creepy, dark eyes.

Swallowing hard, she stared back at him.

He kept right on staring.

Willow pursed her lips, feeling annoyed, not even listening to the song that the hat was singing, applauding along with the rest, although she was still staring rudely back at Professor Snape.

As McGonagall started to read out the list of names, Willow put her hands on her hips, glaring at Snape. His upper lip curled up and one of his bushy, black eyebrows rose a little, as if challenging her to do something about the staring.

Now, that annoyed her!

No one challenged a Weasley and lived...well, yeah, they lived, but still...

Although she knew it was immature, Willow stuck out her tongue at him.

There was a snort of laughter from the other end of the table, which the Weasley girl knew was Hermione. She could also hear a low rumble, which suggested that Hagrid was watching as well.

Much to her surprise, the sneer on Snape's face vanished, an almost...amused look sliding onto his face. Amused? Snape?

She heard a ripple of laughter from further up the Great Hall, blushing. Apparently, because she was taller than most of her fellow first-year pupils, her antics hadn't gone unnoticed by the Senior pupils.

Clearing her throat, she turned back to the Sorting, to find Professor McGonagall regarding her, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Um..." She gave the teacher what she hoped was a helpless look, pointing at Snape. "He started it."

Unfortunately for Willow, the acoustics of the Hall carried her voice to every ear, even those who belonged to pupils who hadn't seen what was going on, and the whole Hall exploded with laughter.

Willow felt heat rising up her neck, her cheeks tingling and hot, and knew her face was probably as red as her hair. Grinning awkwardly, she waved around, before ducking her head and letting her hair cover her face.

"While I am sure that is a valid argument, Miss Weasley," Again a rush of whispers swept around the Hall at her name, but Professor McGonagall ignored them. "Please allow me to continue with the sorting, then you can pull faces at out staff to your heart's content."

Despite the severe tone in the serious witch's voice, there was a gleam of a smile in her green eyes, which made the youngest Weasley feel a little better, although no less embarrassed.

"Mzimba, Leon." The tawny-faced boy with round, black-framed glasses similar to her brother-in-law's, who had recognised her outside, darted forward and bounced down onto the stool with so much enthusiasm that Willow was astounded that it didn't shatter.

The hat was placed on his head and immediately called out Gryffindor.

McGonagall continued through the list of names, the hat sometimes calling out a house immediately, sometimes deliberating for a while, until it finally reached the names beginning with 'W'.

After 'Wallace, Percival', 'Wat, Alan' and 'Wazzock, Annie' - a tragic name for any child to bear - everyone in the hall sat upright as Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and read out clearly. "Weasley, Willow."

"Ho boy..."

Nervously walking up to the tiny stool, Willow sat down carefully, in case the frail-looking little thing broke and she fell on her butt in front of everyone, which would just be embarrassing, especially since everyone was staring at her expectantly.

It didn't break, fortunately, although it did creak and shift a little.

Her stomach felt like it was skipping around inside her to a 70s disco beat, her palms sweating, her hands shaking by her sides as she started to lift her face.

Willow looked up in time to see a flash of McGonagall's face, a moment before the Sorting Hat was placed on her head, flopping down to cover her eyes and ears, all sound around her suddenly muffled.

"Well, well," a little voice murmured. "Another Weasley."

"Uh...yeah..."

The hat made a chuckling sound. "I thought we had seen the last of your family, but now, the final one to arrive is the bravest and proudest of them all," Willow made a meeping sound, blushing. "Don't be embarrassed. It's all here, in your head."

"It...it is?"

Again, there was the laughing sound ringing in both her ears. "You have it all, Weasley. Bravery, intelligence, wit with just enough stubbornness, pride, resourceful, strength, rebelliousness, a determination to prove yourself...a good deal like your sister...and..."

"Harry?"

"Ah yes, Mister Potter," There was a pause. "Like him, you have the will to break rules, if you think it necessary," Willow's ears were burning. "That isn't a bad trait, Weasley, if you remember that some rules must never be broken."

"Yeah, like interdimensional crossing spells which lead to evil, scary, skanky, horny kinda-gay vampire Willows who flirt with anything that moves and..." She heard the hat chuckling again and clapped her mouth shut.

"Interesting...very interesting..."

"You're not gonna put me in Slytherin, are you? Cos of the vampire Willow thing?"

"You could do well there, you know."

Willow scowled at the inside of the hat. "Don't you make me come after you with scissors, Mister!"

"Where would you prefer to go?"

"You said it was all there, inside my head. You tell me."

She thought she could feel amusement radiating from the hat into her mind, and possibly a touch of appreciation. "Very well. If you're another Weasley, I suppose you'll just have to be in..." she heard the voice shout out. "GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor tables erupted in shouts, cheers and a riot of foot-stamping and applauding as the famed eighth Weasley felt the hat get pulled off her head and got to her feet to go to her table.

"Welcome to the House, Weasley," Professor McGonagall muttered to her, barely audibly. Willow grinned, then bound down the steps to the table, where Leon Mzimba gave her a grin.

"I knew you would be in Gryffindor," he confided as Willow slid into the final seat at the table, beside him.

"Read about the family, huh?"

Leon grinned at her. "How did you know?"

"You look the type," she replied, winking, then looked up to the table at the head of the Hall, where the teachers had all assumed their seats, Professor McGonagall next to Professor Dumbledore.

Dumbledore rose to his feet, a silence falling over the hall again. "Once again, I would like to welcome you to a new year at Hogwarts and, before we begin the feast, I have a line or two to say to you."

Willow felt the laugh bubbling up inside her already, hoping that he would say it, just for the sake of amusement.

If he had done the clothing thing, how could he not say...

"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts. Here they are a-standing in a row," He spread his hands with a smile, laughter rapidly spreading across the Great Hall, while a few pureblood wizards simply looked confused. "And now, the feast..."

Food appeared on the table, people immediately tucking in.

Except Willow, who was practically on the floor, hysterically giggling, tears of mirth rolling down her face. A few of the other Gryffindors who were close enough to see were staring her as if she were quite mad.

Fortunately, she glanced towards the teacher's table, and saw two people who were having as much trouble keeping their faces straight: Lupin had a hand over his mouth and Hermione was hiding her face in Hagrid's jacket, her shoulders shaking.

Apparently neither of them believed he would do or say it either, but he had! He had said it! He had actually said it! She had dared the Head Master and he and done and said everything he said he would!

Willow risked a quick glance up at him, clutching her sides that were aching with laughter, and found him smiling down at her, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief as the eighth Weasley finally gave into the forces of gravity and fell off the bench she was sitting on, still laughing.

That was the moment that the Gryffindors knew for a fact that she was as mad as her infamous family and they suddenly looked very happy.

It was going to be an interesting year.

***

"And the pink carnation!" Arm-in-arm with Hermione, having been caught by the Professor of Muggle-Studies straight after the feast, Willow and the brown-haired witch were both still giggling over Dumbledore's costume.

They were on their way towards the Gryffindor common room and Hermione was still refusing to tell Willow what the surprise was that she had mentioned just prior to the Sorting.

Passing by some of the Hufflepuffs on a stairway, Willow was briefly distracted by the incredible architecture as they ascended the flight of white marble stairs, the high roof rising into the spires and towers high above them in arches and alcoves.

Once again, she spotted the wizened witch, who had been staring at her from one of the paintings in the entrance Hall. Apparently, the witch was chasing them up the building, to keep track of her.

"Hermione," Patting Hermione's left arm with her left hand, she nodded towards the witch. "Can you tell her to stop stalking me?"

"Violet," Hermione tutted. "What are you doing?"

Peering around the edge of a gilded frame, the owners of the picture - a Knight and his lady - looking indignant that she was interrupting. Clearly embarrassed at being caught, Violet - the witch - studied Willow. "Is this her, then?" she asked, her voice shrill and a little breathless.

"If you mean the eighth Weasley, yes, Violet, this is her. Willow Weasley, this is our gossip-monger, Violet," The witch looked pleased at the commendation. "She makes sure that all the comings and goings in the castle are known by all the pictures."

"O...kay..." Willow nodded politely. "Can you kinda...stop following me now?"

"Of course! Just had to check if the rumours were true," Violet smiled broadly at her. "Must keep everyone up to date with what's happening you know. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Weasley!"

"Uh...you too..."

Hermione laughed at the expression on Willow's face. "Oh, she's not that bad, once you get used to her being here, there and everywhere," she said. "And she's a good friend of the Fat Lady."

"I'll take your word for it."

They continued down the hallways, talking animatedly, until they reached the painting of the Fat Lady, two large torches burning on either side of the picture, in which the plump lady in a pink silk dress smiled out at them.

"Ah, Miss Weasley."

"Lemme guess - Violet was here?"

The Fat lady chuckled. "Indeed she was. Now, perhaps I can have a password from both of you."

"Flibbertigibbet," Hermione said immediately.

"What-itty-what-it?" Willow stared at her. "You expect me to remember that? I can't even remember how to pronounce half the names of things for my classes and I have to remember a word like that? And are you sure it's even a word and..."

She was hauled back by the laughing Hermione, as the painting swung open to reveal a circular hole in the wall, the Fat Lady chuckling on the other side. "I can see we're going to have an interesting time with you," the Fat Lady called around to her.

Willow whimpered. "I dunno if I can do this," she said, looking up at the hole "I mean, I'm all older than they are and everything!"

"Oh come on!" Hermione braced her hands on the edge of circle, hoisting herself up and sliding into the tunnel, scrambling through to the other side easily. "I want to show you everything!"

Reluctantly, Willow followed her lead, dropping in an unladylike heap on the floor, when the end of the tunnel ended abruptly. Fortunately, though, the common room was empty, so no one saw her sprawled on her butt on the floor.

Grabbing Willow's hands, Hermione pulled her to her feet. "Come on, Willow!" she sounded strangely excited, even more so than Willow was.

The red head was dragged to a gold and scarlet drape that hung on the wall, in front of a column of white marble, where Hermione - after checking that none of the other Gryffindors were about - pulled back the fabric.

"This way," she said, her eyes sparkling.

"Uh...Hermione...it's a pillar."

Hermione flashed her impish smile at Willow again. "Not quite," she said. "Say your name."

"Why?"

"Just say it!"

Hesitantly, feeling a little stupid, Willow leaned forwards and mumbled, "Willow Weasley."

A round brass knob emerged out of the stone, a line of a door appearing on the solid column. Hermione grasped it and pulled the door open, revealing a long staircase, spiralling upwards. "Well?"

"Huh?"

"Honestly! Willow, it's not difficult! There are stairs. We go up them! Come on!"

Her hand catching Willow's again, Hermione started to run up the stairs, Willow following as quickly as she could, feeling too full and too sleepy to be taken on a bizarre trek around the castle.

The stairs went up several levels at least, ending on a landing with a single, dark, reddish-brown door with a brass handle. Hermione, her eyes shining eagerly, pushed Willow forwards. "Go on!" she urged. "It's your room."

"Mine...?" Cautiously, Willow turned the large handle and pushed the door open, to reveal a beautiful, surprisingly large round room, windows with cushioned window-seats all the way around the wood-panelled walls, draped with light curtains.

On either side of the room, a large double bed, four-poster bed stood, with red hangings, deep red blankets and white sheets and pillows, with the Hogwarts crest visible on them, even from where Willow was standing.

The carpet on the floor was thick and red and looked like you could sink up to your ankles in it and Willow was possessed by the strange urge to rip her shoes and socks off and do just that.

Her eyes continued around the room, to the matching desks on opposite sides of the room, near the beds. It was like there was one room and the other side was it's mirror image, which made her wonder...

"Why are there two beds?" she asked, turning to Hermione, who was bouncing on her toes, looking like she was about to explode with excitement, her eyes shining.

"I'm your room mate!"

"Omigod!" Squealing, they hugged each other, both bouncing up and down. The red head, one arm still around Hermione's waist, looked into the room, then at Hermione again. "How did this happen?"

"Professor Dumbledore thought you might not want to stay with children, but that you wouldn't want to be on your own," Hermione explained. "So, he asked me if I would want to share the tower room with you."

"And you said yes!"

"Actually, no, but then he promised me a raise, so..."

Willow turned to look at her and saw the wicked gleam in Hermione's eyes, before they both starting laughing, then hugged each and squealed again. "Omigod! I have a roomie at Hogwarts! This is so cool!"

"C'mon! You have to see the view from the windows! Its fabulous!" They stopped at the threshhold of the room, exchanging looks. As one, they kicked their shoes off and stepped into the room.

Just as Willow had expected, her feet sank into the thick, rich carpet, the warmth spreading through her from her toes, which she wiggled deeper into the soft mass, before hurrying across to the window.

"Wow..." she gasped, kneeling up in the window-seat and staring out across the moonlight-drenched grounds, her hands and face pressed against the cool glass, as she stared around.

"I know," Hermione whispered, sitting next to her. "It's amazing, isn't it?"

Willow nodded, speechless, as Hermione patted her on the knee. Even if she had been able to form words at that point, there were none that truly could expand on the sheer feeling of "holy moley!" she was experiencing.

She could see everything: the Quidditch pitch with the tall goalposts that looked like the bubble-sticks she used to play with Xander, the whomping Willow - the name made her giggle a little - the dark forest in the distance, Hagrid's hut, a warm light flickering in the window.

"Oh!" After several minutes of silence, Hermione scrambled to her feet and ran across to the left side of the room - which Willow thought was neat, because she had hoped she would get the opposite side - and dug into the chest of drawers there.

"What is it?"

Withdrawing two items out of the drawer, Hermione returned to the window seat, as Willow turned fully to face her, leaving misty imprints of her hands, nose and forehead on the glass.

Sitting opposite the younger witch, Hermione looked a little dubious, but sighed, "I told Harry that I would pass these things on to you, although I can't imagine why you would want them."

A sheet of shimmering, silvery fabric was placed in the window box between them, then a scrap of old, rather tattered and dog-eared parchment was placed on top of it with a little less enthusiasm.

"This isn't..." Willow picked up the scrap, eagerly withdrawing her wand from the pocket of her robes and touched it to the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Immediately, lines started to appear, with the introduction that Willow recognised well from the third book in the series about her brother-in-law, a smile crossing her face at the names: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.

"The Marauders Map," she whispered.

"Yes," Hermione sniffed. "I don't see why you would need such a thing."

"In case I need to find a hidden passage?"

Hermione's sniffy manner disappeared and she almost looked naughty. "Willow, we have one of the Marauders as a friend here. Why do you think we would need that filthy piece of scrap with him around?"

"I see your point," Willow returned the naughty grin, but she still tucked the map into her pocket after 'switching it off'. "I think I'll keep it anyway, since Harry sent it for me..."

Her companion laughed. "I thought you might. And I suppose you'll be keeping the invisibility cloak as well?"

"I think I could force myself," Willow heaved a sigh. "With a bit of effort."

"Again, I thought as much," Hermione yawned, then covered her mouth looking a little embarrassed. "Um...sorry. I think I must be a little sleepy."

"Me too," Smothering a yawn herself, Willow reluctantly made herself get to her feet, the soft cushions on the window seat far too comfortable. She looked across the room at the right side. "That's my side, right?"

Hermione suddenly looked chagrined. "You don't mind, do you? It's just that I..."

"It's fine," Willow grinned. "I was hoping it would be my side." Wading through the thick carpet to the bed, she threw herself back on the mattress, bouncing where she fell. "They really like making things comfortable, don't they?"

"Of course! It's Hogwarts."

"So where's the bathroom? Is it comfortable?"

Hermione, digging her nightshirt out of her drawers looked up. "Well, we don't have a bathroom up here, but I'll show you it tomorrow. We have a toilet, though, with a wash basin and a shower."

"And you don't class that as a bathroom?"

The twinkle had returned to Hermione's eyes. "When you see the bath room, you'll understand why I don't class the little rooms up here as bathrooms," she replied, stripping off her robes, down to her plain white underwear. "Oh and don't mind me. I have no shame."

Willow didn't know what was worse: the fact that Hermione was standing there in her skimpy underwear, showing off her figure that she kept hidden under her robes or the fact that she - Willow - was liking the fact that Hermione was standing there in her skimpy underwear, showing off her figure.

"Uh...nice set..." She managed to say faintly.

Hermione cast an impish look at her. "Are you talking about my breasts or my underwear?" The red head went scarlet and Hermione started laughing. "If there was one things those books didn't mention, it was that I adore teasing people."

"I'm starting to notice this," Willow started pulling the drapes shut around her bed, blushing furiously. Hermione just chuckled as she continued to change.

"Good night, Willow," she called with mock-sweetness.

"Yeah," Willow yawned again. "Night!"