Chapter 4: The-Boy-Who-Lived

The rest of the day went, I suspect, quite normally. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had explained to their kids that I was a foreign exchange student - not entirely wrong - and that I would be staying with them for the remainder of my time in school. They then helped set up another bed in Ginny’s room for me, as well as helped move some of my clothes out of the trunk and into a wardrobe on my side of the room. Ginny and I talked a bit while I sorted out what could stay at the Burrow and what could come to Hogwarts with me - I can’t believe I’m actually going to Hogwarts! If this is a dream, I hope I never wake up!!

She and I both gushed about how excited we were to be going, and what we both hoped for when the year started. She said that she hoped she’d be in Gryffindor, or else Fred and George would never let her live it down. Well, at least I know how far back in the series I am; Ginny started her first year during the incident with the Chamber, which was Harry’s second year. That would make it July of 1992 now...

“...and the whole family’s Gryffindor, so me being sorted anywhere else would just be a big disappointment anyway. But what about you?” I looked up from arranging my shoes to see Ginny looking at me expectantly.

“What house do I wanna be sorted in?” I asked; she nodded, ”To be honest, I hadn’t really thought about it that much.”

“Aren’t you at least a little curious?” she whined, and I shrugged.

“I’ll wait until the Sorting,” I replied, closing the cabinet and standing back up to full height, “but if I have an idea of which house I’ll be in before then, I’ll let you know, okay?” She nodded again, and we continued talking as we headed downstairs for dinner. I had no idea she could talk so much! I thought to myself, smiling as the younger red-head rambled on about every little thing she could possibly think of. We sat down at the table with everyone else, quieting down as we listened to the conversation already on-going.

“...and he said that an official notice had been sent to Harry Potter for use of underage magic - and in front muggles, no less!”

“But Dad!” Ron yelled, pieces of chewed-up roast flying from his mouth, “Harry wouldn’t do something like that!”

“Close your mouth when you’re eating, Ronald!” Mrs. Weasley said, putting a plate of roast, mashed potatoes, and peas in front of myself and Ginny, “I had been beginning to wonder why he hadn’t written you all summer. I do hope he’s alright, he’s such a sweet boy.”

“Can’t we go get him, Mum? He must be miserable with those muggles!” Ron had, thankfully, swallowed his bite of food before speaking again, which I was glad for, but Mrs. Weasley still threw a glare to her son.

“We can’t be entirely certain of the situation just yet, Ron!” she shouted, then sighed, exhausted “Look, if he hasn’t written back by Friday, your dad and I will got and get him. Sound good? Good. Now eat.”

It was just after midnight when I woke, hearing some movement on the landing. I knew it wasn’t Mr. Weasley - he had been called into work around seven-thirty - so it had to be one of the other Weasleys. I thought hard about why they might be up so late, then I remembered the conversation at dinner. Looks like the boys are about to go rescue Harry. No way am I missing this!

I got up quietly, moving somewhat slowly as to avoid waking the eleven-year-old still sleeping on the other side of the room, and headed to the wardrobe. I shuffled quickly out of my pajamas, haphazardly throwing on a pair of high-waisted shorts and a crop top before grabbing my socks and boots. I dressed quickly, trying my best to keep from making any more noise than could be helped. I pulled a beanie on my head and over the tops of my braids roughly before tip-toeing over to Ginny’s desk and grabbing some parchment. Looking carefully at the quill and ink pot and wondering how I was going to do this, I dipped the quill in the ink several times before writing Mrs. Weasley a - rather splotchy - message:

Dear Mrs. Weasley,

Fred, George, and Ron are leaving to go get Harry in Surrey. I’m going with them to keep them out of trouble. It’s about half-past midnight now. We should be back right in time for breakfast.

I promise to bring your boys back safe and sound.

-Rosie

I almost couldn’t read it through the ink splatters, but it was the most legible I was going to get without missing Ron and the twins leaving. I placed the quill back in the pot and left the note open on the desk before slowly sneaking out onto the landing. I walked carefully down the stairs, trying to avoid stepping on any weak spots to keep from being heard. Finally making to the bottom floor, I crouched down when I spotted three tall figures in the kitchen, arguing.

Best to sneak into the car now, I thought as I made my way to the front door, that way they can’t try and make me stay here. My mind made up, I had to practically crawl to keep from being seen on my way to the door. By the time I had reached the handle, though, it was clear that I wasn’t nearly as stealthy as I had thought, as I felt on set of hands cover my mouth while another physically lifted my up off the floor; I was so startled that it took serious effort to keep from screaming.

“Well, lookie what we’ve caught, Freddie!”

“Miss Rosie-posie, what are you sneakin’ ‘round for?”

Damn it. I struggled against their hold, pulling hard on Fred’s hands over my mouth until it was free.

“I could ask you three the same thing! Now put me down!” Thankfully, they complied, turning me to face them once my feet were back on the ground. Fred and George were smiling wide at me, while Ron stood a bit back, watching the stairs nervously.

“So, what’re you doing up at this time of night?” George asked, and I narrowed my eyes.

“Don’t pull that with me, Weasley,” I whispered harshly, pointing a finger at the both of them, “You’re sneaking out to go get Harry from his house and bring him here!” They held up their hands in surrender, pulling innocent faces at me - Yeah, not buying it…

“Us?”

“Sneak out?”

“Never!” they finished together, and Ron shushed them, drawing their attention. Rolling my eyes, I shoved their shoulders to face me again.

“Look, either you can all shut up and take me with you, or I can tell your mother exactly what you’re doing.” That got them; their faces paled significantly, and they nodded quickly. I smirked.

“Then let’s get going.”

It was a long drive down to Surrey; I hadn’t known just how far we were from London before, but after flying in the car for almost three hours, it made me glad we’d be taking the Floo network to Diagon Alley once our letters arrived. It seemed like forever before we finally arrived in Little Whinging, but we could finally see the beginnings of Privet Drive peeking through below the clouds.

“Oi, which house is it again, Ron?” Fred asked, pulling a lever in the car and starting to descend from the cloud cover.

“Number 4, I think,” he replied, only to be swiftly cut off by George yelling “You think?! How can you not know which house it is, Ron?” I leaned out the back window carefully, scanning the all the windows I could see. This would be after the Dobby incident, so it should have… Ah ha!

“Is that it, Ron?” I asked, pointing to the one house on the street with bars on one of the windows. He leaned out next to me, and sure enough, a golden number 4 was plastered on the front of the house.

“Yeah, that’s it… why do they have bars on the window, though?” I shrugged.

“Maybe it had something to do with Harry using magic? Isn’t that what your dad said?” He nodded, and told Fred and George to pull around beside the window. Once close enough, I could see a scrawny, black-haired boy tossing and turning in his small bed by the wall. Harry Potter. Ron moved past me to rattle the bars a little.

“Harry?” he called, as quietly as he could while still being heard, “Harry!” Finally, after a moment, the boy through the bars opened his eyes and stared, not entirely seeing, at Ron leaning out the backseat window of a flying Ford Anglia car. He pushed his glasses on his face and opened the window as best he could.

“Ron!” he whispered, as if he couldn’t believe it - which he probably couldn’t, “Ron, how did you- What the-?” He then froze for a moment, his eyes travelling over first the car, then the twins, and finally landing on me. “How did you get here? And who is she?”

“Alright there, Harry?” George asked, ignoring the second part of his question.

“What’s been going on?” Ron interjected, his voice raising slightly, “Why haven’t you been answering my letters? I’ve asked you to stay about twelve times, and then Dad came home and said you’d got an official warning for using magic in front of Muggles-”

“It wasn’t me,” Harry claimed, “and how did he know?” I groaned.

“As good as it must be catching up, can we please save the Q and A for after we’ve broken Potter out?” I interrupted, making eye contact with the three that I’d travelled with, “At this rate, either your mom or the muggles will be up by the time we leave, and neither of those options bodes well for us.” The twins nodded, then handed Harry a rope they’d grabbed from the floorboards.

“She’s right,” Fred admitted, tossing one end of the rope to Harry, “Tie that ‘round the bars. George’s tied the other end already.” Harry moved fast, tieing what he hoped was a sturdy knot, before Ron told him to stand back. The car suddenly revved up, and drove up into the air. There was a jolt as the bars held us back, but after a few more tries, the bars were ripped off the window and Ron and I quickly pulled them into the trunk. Pulling back beside the window, I opened the door to Harry.

“Get in,” Ron said.

“But all my Hogwarts stuff-”

“Where is it?” I asked, “Fred and George can get it for you.” Harry told them, and they both crawled through the window into Harry’s bedroom quickly, unlocking the door and heading down the stairs. I crawled through the window as well, and moved to help Harry grab the rest of his things.

“Here, let’s get your owl over to the car,” I said, pointing to Hedwig, “The twins can let her out once we’re above the clouds - to make sure we don’t get seen.” Harry nodded, and we both grabbed the cage and handed it over to Ron. Together, we got Harry’s things out to the car in record time, then went down to help Fred and George carry his trunk and broom. We had just made it into the room when Vernon Dursley coughed in the other room.

“Hurry, let’s get everything into the car and get moving!” I whispered, “Harry, you get in and help Ron pull - the three of us will push!” Moving around us, Harry climbed into the car, then he and Ron turned to grab the handle of Harry’s trunk. We had it in within a few minutes, just in time to hear Vernon cough again. I passed Harry’s broom to the boys in the back, then ushered Fred and George into the car.

“Let’s get moving, before someone wakes up.” Ron said, but I held back a moment, grabbing a pen and some paper from the nightstand, “What’re you doing?”

“Just letting them know that Harry’s going to a friend’s house, and not been arrested by the Ministry.” I scribbled out a quick note to the Dursleys, then folded it carefully on the window sill before scrambling up and reaching out for George’s extended hand.

Then my foot slipped. I shrieked, nearly falling before George and Fred grabbed my wrists tightly. But the damage had already been done.

“WHAT WAS THAT?!” A man screamed farther in the house, and we began to panic.

“Pull me up!” I growled, no longer trying to keep quiet. They yanked me into the car, seating me between them and shutting the door just as Mr. Dursley appeared purple-faced in Harry’s doorway.

“PETUNIA!” he cried, running to the window, “PETUNIA HE’S GETTING AWAY!”

“Put your foot down, Fred!” Ron yelled, just as I shouted “Floor it!” The car suddenly shot upwards, and we drove away from Privet Drive. Harry and Ron looked back to see the Dursleys leaning out the window, staring at us.

“See you next summer!” Harry cried, laughing happily as we lifted above the clouds and out of sight. At this, George reached over the seat towards Hedwig’s cage and picking the lock. As soon as the cage door opened, she flew out the window, soaring in the sky beside us.

“Nice going, by the way, getting caught,” Fred chuckled, catching my attention, “I guess that note won’t be needed anymore!” I elbowed him gently, then relaxed in the seat, smiling.

“You still haven’t told me who you were,” Harry reminded me, and I turned back to face him. His black hair was all over the place, and green eyes shone back at me through round, thin glasses. Underneath his bangs, I could see the corner of a lightning-shaped scar. I grinned to him, holding out my hand.

“I’m Rosie.” He took my hand, smiling back at me as he shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Rosie. I’m Harry Potter.”