Trapped In Rowling
*A re-post of my story (from FanFiction.Net) that I thought I'd post on here.*
Rosie just wanted to get away from it all...She never meant to be thrown down a well and end up right in the middle of her favorite series. Now she has to find her way back, but will she return to a world that hates her, or stay at Hogwarts to try to save the characters she's come to love, some more than others...Starts in CoS, may continue on or become a series. FredxOC
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
10
Reads
1,138
Chapter 5 - Of Wand-Lore And Broomsticks
Chapter 6
Chapter 5: Of Wand-Lore and Broomsticks
The sun was just beginning to lift on the horizon when the feeling of the car landing woke me up. After we had made it a safe distance from the Dursley’s house, I had curled up between the twins in order to get some more sleep before reaching the Burrow. I sat up with a yawn, watching the sky change colors as the sun raised slowly in the background of the Weasley’s house, shedding a pink-ish light over ever-
Wham! I jolted up out of my seat and turned to see George laughing at me. Behind him, Fred and Ron were helping Harry take his things out of the trunk.
“Ah, so you’re awake?” George joked, opening the recently-slammed door to let me out, “Sleep well?” I sneered at him, bumping his shoulder as I moved past him and out into the yard. He chortled. “Ah, not a morning person then, are you?”
“Oh, piss off...” I muttered before looking around at the scene; I hadn’t gotten much of a look at it when I arrived yesterday, but now I had a chance to see it clearly. There were a number of rusted cauldrons and odd, rubber boots laying around all over the yard. Fat, brown chickens ran in circles around the front, and what I could see of the garden from here was nearly wild, and very, very green.
But not nearly as green as Ron began turning as Mrs. Weasley started storming out the front door and towards us.
“Ah,” said Fred.
“Oh dear,” said George. Mrs. Weasley moved to stand in front of us, hands on her hips and a firm frown set on her face. There was a look in her eyes, one that, when it looked at each of us in turn, we each looked guilty and turned our eyes away - aside from the twins, who, despite their increasingly guilty expressions, faced her dead on.
“So,” she said, and I could hear Ron gulp at her steady tone and calm fury. I hope this is the only time I get on her bad side, I thought to myself, She’s absolutely terrifying.
“Morning, Mum,” George spoke cheerily, as if his warm, happy tone might convince her not to be angry with us. It didn’t work.
“Have you any idea how worried I’ve been?” she responded, her voice a deadly whisper that, had she not already had our attention, we might have missed her words completely. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Fred preparing to say something, and without thinking, jumped ahead of him, catching Mrs. Weasley’s attention.
“Mrs. Weasley, sorry, we’re a bit later than I had anticipated,” I spoke quickly, throwing the ginger-haired woman off guard, “You did see my note, right? I’m sorry if you couldn’t read it - I’ve never used a quill before you see, and I didn’t have time to fix it before running down to follow the boys. I thought about just trying to keep them here, but I figured they might not listen to me, and from what I’d heard, Harry here needed to get out of there as soon as possible!” Mrs. Weasley continued to look shocked, and I thought for a moment that I should stop, but found that I just couldn’t shut up. Typical…
“I know you said that you and your husband would go and get Harry if he hadn’t written Ron back by Friday, but they were just so worried, and I wanted to help. And the poor boy had bars on his window, an-”
“Rosie, dear, calm down!” Mrs. Weasley finally cut me off, placing a hand on either of my shoulders, “I’m not cross with you, dear.”
“Y-You’re not?” I stuttered, deflating slightly from my momentary hysterical state. She shook her head.
“Not at all, sweetheart,” she smiled at me, then turned back to smile at Harry as well, “Nor with you, Harry, dear. But I am cross with you three.” The three Weasley boys, though they each towered over her, shrank visibly under her harsh gaze. “You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job-” She continued on like this for a while, up until her voice began to go hoarse, then turned back to myself and Harry.
“I am very pleased to see you, Harry,” she said, leading us into the house, “Come in and have some breakfast.” We walked inside the door, and the twins held me back as Harry and Ron sat down at the table.
“How’d you do it? She would’ve normally yelled ‘til she was blue in the face, but she didn’t. So how’d you do it?” Fred asked, and I shrugged.
“No idea, but I’m starving” I moved past them, helping Mrs. Weasley put the food on everyone’s plates before sitting down and eating breakfast myself.
It’d been about a week since bringing Harry here, and the Burrow was already beginning to feel like home. It was certainly louder here than back home, but that was a given; a large house with 9 people in it, plus a ghoul in the attic and Fred and George’s typical antics would obviously be louder than a three-bedroom, 4-person household just outside of Atlanta. Needless to say, I much prefered it here.
I spent much of my time at the Burrow either helping Mrs. Weasley around the house, talking with Ginny, and learning to play Quidditch with the boys (excluding Percy, that is). I was thankful that I had read Rowling’s “Quidditch Through the Ages” book recently, as when asked if my old school played Quidditch or Quodpot, I actually knew what that was. I told them that I had never played either, of course, and asked them to teach me to play Quidditch.
I hadn’t expected flying to be so...liberating. I had been so nervous at first - obviously, I had never flown anything on my own before - and Fred and George had had to help me even get onto the broom the first few times, and then stuck close by to make sure I didn’t fall off. But once I was in the air, I was soaring! It took a while just being on the broom for them to convince me to stop long enough to actually learn how to play the game.
“You’re pretty good, you know,” Harry had said to me as we entered the house for dinner later that evening, “You should think about trying out for your house team.” I smiled at the idea, thinking how cool it would be to play on an actual team. Maybe I will...
Our Hogwarts letters came in at breakfast a few days after that; I remember having to pick both the letter and a number of feathers out of my eggs, as Errol had landed beak-first onto my plate. I froze; there were seven letters - seven thick-papered letters, each sealed with a red wax seal pressed with the Hogwarts school crest. I knew it would be coming for me, Dumbledore had told me so himself, but now it was actually here. The front was fairly simple, written in green ink:
Miss R. McIntosh
Seat Nearest the Window
The Burrow
Ottery St. Catchpole
Devon
Opening the letter - the letter I had waited my entire life for - was one of the hardest things I had ever done. It felt like the moment I actually opened it, I would wake up - like this had all been a dream, and I couldn’t bear the thought that none of this was real.
Dear Miss McIntosh,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted as a third-year student to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on foreign-exchange. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
“Third year, eh?” I jumped, not noticing that the twins had been reading over my shoulder, “We didn’t know that we were older than you.” Yeah, and if you count birth years, you two are older by a LOT…
“Actually,” I started, blushing, “I’ve been…held back a year.” Everyone stared at me at that - save Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who knew why - and the twins burst out laughing.
“My old school was a year behind Hogwarts, curriculum-wise!” I near-shouted at them, “So Professor Dumbledore thought it best that I wait another year before taking the OWLs.” Truthfully, it was so I could catch up on the material in my own time - and it wouldn’t make sense for a 14-year-old to be starting in a first-year class, that would raise some questions that I wouldn’t know how to answer.
Thankfully, they dropped the topic, and we continued eating without interruption. Until a little later, when a letter arrived for Ron from Hermione asking if we could all meet up at Diagon Alley to do our shopping together.
Which is happening today - Wednesday, the day we all finally get to get our new school supplies. I borrowed an old cloak from Mrs. Weasley’s closet, which I didn’t refuse but I didn’t understand why I was wearing it; it seemed I was the only one actually dressed for summer - a light-blue sleeveless crop-top, high-waist shorts, and some flats - while everyone else was in sweaters and either skirts or long pants.
After we were dressed, Mrs. Weasley stuffed us full of bacon sandwiches before gathering all of us around the fireplace. Mrs. Weasley grabbed a flower pot off the mantle and looked inside.
“We’re running low, Arthur,” she sighed, “We’ll have to buy some more today… Ah well, guests first!” She then turned to me and Harry, offering the pot to the both of us. Harry looked at the pot, then to me, as if asking me to go first. I smiled softly to him, and turned back to Mrs. Weasley.
“Are you sure it’ll work right for me, Mrs. Weasley?” I asked, “I mean, my accent won’t affect where I end up, will it?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t think so,” she replied, not looking entirely convinced herself, “but just to be on the safe side, Percy, dear, why don’t you go with her?” The elder of the Weasley children nodded, though looked particularly unenthused, and walked up to the fireplace beside me. I reached to grab some of the sparkling powder but Percy beat me to it, tossing it into the fire. The flames changed to a bright, neon green and he stepped into them, gesturing me to follow. I walked in carefully - the flames flickered around me, but did not catch myself or my clothes - and turned to face the others, grabbing onto Percy’s elbow as I did so.
“Diagon Alley!” I heard him shout, but then all sound was drowned out by the air rushing past my ears as we fell. I tightened my grip, squeezing my eyes shut as I tried my hardest not to lose my lunch all over the place. I felt Percy move beside me, and in my haste to steady myself, I knocked us both over, landing both of us face down on the floor of the Leaky Cauldron.
“Sorry…” I muttered as we stood back up, brushing the soot off our robes. He humphed, but didn’t say anything, instead choosing to stand off to the side, staring away from me.
Oookay then… I thought to myself, I get the feeling that he doesn’t like me very much… I decided to ignore it for now, and turned to see my reflection in a nearby mirror. Thankfully, Mrs. Weasley’s cloak managed to keep my clothes safe from any ashes, however my hair and shoes were not nearly so fortunate. I began shaking the ashes out of my pink curls, adjusting the bow I had pinned in the back before leaning down to wipe the tops of my shoes clean.
“Rosie!” I turned to see Fred walking out of the fire, “I do hope Percy hasn’t bored you too much while you were gone!” I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, of course!” I drawled sarcastically, batting my eyelashes as George followed Fred from the fireplace, “What ever would I do without you here to save me from the dull and mundane?”
“Dull and mundane?” George interjected, grinning madly at his brothers, “We’ll have to fix that, won’t we, Freddie?”
“Absolutely, George!” Next I knew, I was sandwiched between them, the three of us laughing together as we waited on the rest of the Weasleys and Harry to arrive. Ron came through next, looking around the bar, frantic.
“Where’s Harry gone?” he asked us.
“He’s hasn’t gotten here yet,” I replied, confused. Why does this seem familiar?
“He went just after George did! Where could he have ended up?” My heart stuttered slightly as I realized what had happened. Knockturn Alley! How could I have forgotten?! I exchanged a look with the twins, becoming increasingly worried.
“Maybe he just missed the grate-”
“Who’s missed the grate?” Mr. Weasley’s voice cut George off, as he, Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny all steadily walked from the fireplace, the flames finally returning to their usual orange color.
“Harry, Dad,” Ron wailed, “He’s not here!”
“What?!” Mrs. Weasley thundered, “Where could he have gone? He could’ve gotten himself hurt, or-”
“Now, Molly, settle down,” Mr. Weasley soothed, wrapping an arm around his wife’s shoulders, “I’m sure he’ll be fine; he can’t have gone too far. Let’s just check around the alley and see if he’s landed in another shop.” With that, the eight of us headed out behind the pub, and Mr. Weasley pulled out his wand and tapped the brick three up and two across from the trash can. The brick slid back, creating a small hole before the other bricks began shuffling around, moving and shifting until they formed a magnificent archway. Just beyond that was a narrow, cobblestone street, with towering, slanted buildings of all different colors and styles on either side.
I blinked back the tears I felt forming as I gazed at the sight, all thoughts of finding Harry thrown from my mind. My feet froze where they stood, and I felt my heart ache as I thought This is real… This is real, and I’m actually here! I’m not dreaming! Mrs. Weasley turned back to me, calling my name.
“...I love magic…” I gasped, feeling a smile crack onto my no doubt awe-struck face. She smiled at me, and took gentle hold of my elbow. I shook myself out of it, smiling again at Mrs. Weasley before we continued on. The alley could wait - we needed to find Harry.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long to find Harry. By the time we made it up the alley to Gringotts bank, Hagrid had already arrived, with the black-haired wizard in tow. Mrs. Weasley thanked him profusely before ushering all of us into the bank. Mr. Weasley stayed behind with the others to chat up Hermione’s parents, while myself, Harry, and Mrs. Weasley climbed in the cart and headed into the vaults.
We decided to check my vault last, so I stayed in the cart at the first two stops, fiddling with my key as Mrs. Weasley cleaned out their family’s vault and Harry hastily shoved a few handfuls of gold from his into his bag. We began making our way to vault 256, I sat staring into space, wondering how it was possible for me to have a vault in the first place; who sent me here, and why did they go through so much trouble to make it possible for me to stay?
“Vault 256,” the goblin driving us announced, bringing me back to the present as I stepped out of the cart and next to the door. I handed him the key, and waited as he unlocked the door, and pushed it open.
“Whoa…” I don’t know what I had been expecting to see inside, but I’m almost certain it wasn’t piles upon piles of gold, silver, and bronze coins. It wasn’t a relatively big vault, maybe about half the size of Harry’s, but it was full to bursting. I stumbled inside, trying to see just how much was really in there, before pulling a velvet pouch out from under my cloak and shoving a few handfuls of each kind of coin inside. I accepted the key back from the goblin before climbing back in next to Mrs. Weasley and making our way back up to the surface.
Once back out on the alley, the twins immediately grabbed onto both of my arms and practically carried me over to meet their friend Lee Jordan, just barely hearing their mother tell all of us to meet back at the book shop in an hour. Lee was certainly interesting - just as wild as Fred and George were, but somehow seemingly less mischievous.
We didn’t talk for too long, however, since he had already finished his shopping, and the three of us continued on to get my shopping done. They helped me get my cauldron, scales, and phials, as well as some quills and ink, parchment, a personal journal, and my ingredients for classes. We even stopped into Sugarplum’s Sweets Shop, grabbing a few boxes of Bertie Bott’s and Fizzing Whizbees. They seemed to get increasingly confused, however, as we began making our way up to Madam Malkin’s.
“Why do you need to get all new materials, anyways?” Fred asked, taking my cauldron - which held all of my other purchases inside - and carrying it for me.
“Yeah, don’t you still have yours from your old school?” I froze at that, thinking rapidly as to how I should answer that.
“Um, well,” I stammered, twirling my hair around my pinkie finger, “I needed new ones anyway, you see. And I broke my old wand, too, so I’ll have to get a new one of those today, as well.” They stared at me for a moment, and I wondered for a moment if they saw through my lie, before shrugging and tossing their arms over my shoulders again.
“Alright.”
“Makes sense.” I held in a sigh of relief, and we continued down to the robe shop, where they handed me back my cauldron and left to head into Gambol and Japes, leaving me to get fitted for my new uniform in peace. A short witch dressed in pale purple robes - Madam Malkin - quickly ushered me over to one of the stools in the back, measuring and hemming a set of plain Hogwarts robes for me.
Once finished, she wrapped three sets of the robe-uniform, a winter cloak, and a pair of dragonhide gloves for me, which I paid for before carefully shoving them into my nearly-full cauldron. I made my way back out into the street, and just about ran over Harry as I did so.
“Sorry, Harry!” I pulled him back up to his feet, dusting off his shoulders before smiling at the other two, “Hi Ron, Hermione!”
“How’s the shopping going for you, Rosie?” Hermione asked; our previous introduction at Gringotts had been brief, but I had gotten the sense that I would like her, and we had instantly hit it off.
“Honestly, it was a bit better when Fred and George were tossing my cauldron back and forth between them - at least then, I wasn’t the one carrying it!” I laughed at my little joke, shifting said cauldron in my grip before continuing, “And I’ve still got things to get before heading back to the book shop. But what about you guys?”
“Everything except the books,” Ron said, “But they had a full set of Chudley Cannon robes over at Quality Quidditch Supplies!”
“Yeah, speaking of Quidditch, you thinking about trying out for your house team?” I shrugged, not entirely certain.
“I dunno, I mean, I’d need a broom, wouldn’t I?” Without another word, both boys grabbed onto my arms and began leading me down to the shop, Hermione following behind us. We pushed ourselves inside, and I soon found my nose pressed up against a wall covered in different broom models for sale - including the illustrious new Nimbus 2001.
“What’dya think?” Harry asked, and I backed up a bit to look at them without going cross-eyed. The Nimbus models looked nice, but I could tell they wouldn’t come very cheap, and I was sure that there were other models just as nice that wouldn’t clean out the pouch I had filled earlier. Finally, I felt my eyes settle on an old Cleansweep Seven. It was clearly pre-owned, but seemed to be in relatively good condition. I reached a hand out and slid it down the handle, taking hold of it carefully before picking it up and turning back to the others, who were smiling at me.
“This one,” I said, and we walked over to the counter to purchase it, along with a servicing kit. We walked back outside, my new broom wrapped in brown paper under my arm, and I turned back to them.
“It’s almost time to meet back up with your mom, Ron,” I said, “Why don’t you guys head on over there now? I’ve still got a few more things to get, so I’ll meet up with all of you in a bit, okay?”
“What else haven’t you got?” Hermione asked.
“I need to get a new wand, and I was thinking about stopping by the Magical Menagerie as well,” I responded.
“Why do you need a new wand?” Harry asked, and I sighed internally. Great, another story I have to make up…
“It’s...a long story,” I said finally, “I’ll tell you some other time, but I really need to hurry and get to Ollivander’s now, okay? See ya!” With that, I hurried back up the street to the wand shop, knowing that they would find my evading their questions suspicious. Eh, I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it…
I slowly pushed the door open to see a small, dingy-looking shop with a single wand on a faded, purple-velvet pillow in the front window. Inside the shop was mostly empty, save a scrawny chair in the corner, and shelves from the floor to the ceiling filled to the brim with wand boxes shoved haphazardly onto them. The light streaming in from the windows lit up the dust particles floating in the air, making them seem like tiny fireflies dancing inside the shop. From the back of the shop can an older wizard, his eyes wide and a kind smile on his face.
“Ah,” he whispered, though it echoed in the empty space, “You must be Miss McIntosh.” I nodded. “Yes, yes, Dumbledore told me you’d be coming. Now, let’s see if we can find a suitable wand for you...” A measuring tape begin measuring my right arm, my shoulders, my head - really anything it could measure - as Mr. Ollivander muttered to himself, searching along the shelves before finally grabbing a brown box and bringing over to me. He waved his wand, dropping the tape to the floor before opening the box.
“Here,” he pulled a ash-colored wand from the box, “Dogwood and dragon heartstring, ten-and-three-quarter inches, rather springy…” He turned the wand to pass it to me, but it barely touched my fingers before he snatched it back, mumbling as he put it back and continued searching. He came back a few moments later with a black box, with a honey-brown wand inside.
“Maple, phoenix feather, eleven inches, sturdy.” Again, the wand was whisked away before I could fully grasp it. This went on for a few more tries, before he finally came over with a green, velvet-lined box. Inside was an almost white wand, with a firm, bark-like handle, and carved vines with little flowers sprouting towards the tip from it.
“Here we go, rowan wood, unicorn hair, twelve-and-a-quarter inches, quite flexible…” He passed me the wand, and the moment I felt my fingers touch it, I knew. I held it in my right hand, feeling the warmth radiating from it before flicking it and shooting a shower of silver and pink sparks out of the tip.
“Yes, that’s the one, interesting...” Mr. Ollivander spoke, a wide grin on his face, “I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, Miss McIntosh, and in all my years, of all the rowan-wood wands I’ve sold, not a single one has gone on to do dark things in this world. I expect I’ll be seeing good work from you, in the future…”A/n: Here's chapter 5! I'm writing chapter 6 now - essentially, part 2 of Diagon Alley! See you all soon!