New Friend?

Chapter 10: New Friend?

"I'm Heather," she said simply, watching the girl's expression.

"I know," the girl replied without hesitation. "Everyone in magical Britain knows who you are."

Heather tensed for a second but shrugged it off. "And you are?"

"Daphne Greengrass," the girl said. "From House Greengrass, if that matters."

"It doesn't," Heather said with a small smirk. She had no patience for the whole pureblood nonsense she'd heard whispers about. "So why are you sitting alone?"

Daphne didn't hesitate. "I don't have any friends."

Heather blinked, surprised by the bluntness. "Really?"

Daphne nodded, her expression calm. "People either want something from me, or they're too scared to approach me because of my family. It's easier this way."

Heather thought about it for a moment. "I don't have any friends either."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Not one?"

Heather shook her head, a small laugh escaping her lips. "Not anymore."

For a second, the two girls just looked at each other, and then they both started giggling. The laughter felt lighter than Heather expected, like some weight she hadn't realized was there had been lifted.

When they finally stopped, Daphne tilted her head. "Do you want to be friends with me?"

Heather hesitated, the question hitting her harder than she thought it would. She thought back to Olivia, her last friend. That had ended badly, and part of her wondered if she was better off keeping her distance from people. But then she looked at Daphne again. There was something about her, something familiar. She reminded Heather of herself—a little guarded, but honest. 

Heather decided she couldn't live the rest of her life afraid of things going wrong again. Sometimes you had to take a risk.

She smiled. "Yeah, I'd love to be friends."

The two girls began talking now that they had officially decided to be friends. Daphne leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs as if she was settling in for a proper conversation.

"So," Daphne started, "my dad's on the Wizengamot. He's one of the more reasonable ones, at least compared to the usual idiots in there. And my mum? She manages the family business."

Heather raised an eyebrow. "What's the family business?"

"Greenhouses," Daphne said with a small smile. "The Greengrass family owns the largest ones in magical Britain. We supply most of the potion ingredients for apothecaries. It's boring work, really, but it's profitable."

"Sounds like a big deal," Heather said, genuinely curious. She'd never heard of the Greengrass name before but figured it must mean something important if they were running the biggest supply of potion ingredients.

Daphne shrugged. "It pays the bills and keeps the Ministry off our backs, so it works. Anyway, I've also got a little sister, Astoria. She's joining Hogwarts next year."

"Is she like you?" Heather asked.

Daphne smirked. "She's worse. Mischievous, spoiled, and always sneaking around trying to eavesdrop. But she's clever, so I'll give her that."

Heather grinned. She liked hearing about Daphne's family, but she wasn't about to talk about her own. The Dursleys were the last thing she wanted to think about, especially right now. Instead, she shifted the conversation. "I'm staying with Amelia Bones and her niece Susan."

"Really?" Daphne asked, her eyebrows lifting slightly. "I've met Susan a few times at some noble parties. We never became friends or anything, but she seemed... nice."

"She is," Heather said. "She offered to let me sit with her and her friend Hannah, but honestly? I wasn't ready for that kind of excitement yet. They seemed really... chatty."

Daphne gave a small laugh. "You dodged a bullet there. Hannah Abbott could talk someone's ear off if you let her."

Heather nodded, letting the silence linger for a moment before speaking. "What's the deal with the Weasleys? Why don't the other magical families like them?"

Daphne grimaced like she had just stepped on something unpleasant. "That's a long story. Again," she added, giving Heather a sharp look. "But I'll give you the short version this time, since you seem determined to know."

Heather leaned in slightly. She could tell Daphne was holding back, and that only made her more curious.

"The Weasleys," Daphne started, crossing her arms, "performed a ritual generations ago that ensured they'd only have sons. You know, for the dowries. Every daughter they married into the family brought in money, land, or magical artifacts. They pretty much turned their family line into a business." She paused, letting it sink in before continuing. "People didn't like that. And it's not just that—they're some of the biggest blood traitors in our world. They were the first family to back Dumbledore when he banned all ancient rituals and traditions. He wanted to replace everything with Muggle holidays and customs."

Heather frowned. "Seriously?"

Daphne nodded. "Seriously. All those old traditions—poof. Gone. Now we're stuck with Christmas trees and Easter eggs." She waved a hand dismissively. "Not that the old ways were perfect, but at least they were ours."

Heather stared at her hands, resting in her lap. She didn't like the sound of that at all. "I never cared for Christmas anyway," she muttered. "Not the way Muggles do it."

Daphne tilted her head. "Why not? What, did your Muggle family force you to sing carols or something?"

Heather snorted. "Hardly. Dudley, my cousin, got dozens of presents every year. Me? I got coal. And if my aunt or uncle were feeling extra shitty, they'd throw the coal at my face for good measure."

Daphne's expression shifted, something flickering behind her eyes, but she didn't press the issue. "Sounds lovely," she said dryly. "Anyway, the Weasleys are all about cozying up to Muggles. It's their thing. But for the rest of us, it's a bit harder to forgive them for selling out our history and culture."

Heather leaned back, her thoughts spinning. She hadn't expected this. She thought about Ron, with his patched robes and cheery grin, and it didn't quite fit. But then again, she didn't know much about the Weasleys beyond what she'd seen at Hogwarts.

"You don't think they regret any of it?" Heather asked.

"Doubt it," Daphne said flatly. "They're too proud of themselves for being Dumbledore's lackys. Always have been." 

Heather had heard about Dumbledore from Amelia Bones. She knew he was the only other "archmage" in Britain and the headmaster of Hogwarts. Amelia had spoken about him with a mix of respect and exasperation, calling him a brilliant but frustratingly unpredictable man. Heather wanted to ask Daphne what she thought about him, but she held back. She'd already bombarded Daphne with enough questions, and she didn't want to come across like some clueless outsider. Amelia had done her best to teach her about the wizarding world in the past week, but there was only so much anyone could cram into seven days. A lot had been left out.

Instead, Heather and Daphne spent the rest of the train ride talking about Hogwarts and the houses they might end up in. Daphne made it clear she hoped Heather would join her in Slytherin.

"You'd fit in," Daphne said confidently. "Ambitious, clever, not afraid to fight back. You're practically made for it."

Heather shrugged. "I wouldn't mind, I guess. But aren't there a bunch of kids from families who paid my parents money in Slytherin? Might make things awkward."

Daphne waved a hand dismissively. "Most of them are full of hot air. Besides, my family stayed neutral during the war. If anyone gives you trouble, they'll have to deal with me too."

Heather smirked. "Thanks, but I can handle myself. I could probably beat them up if I had to. They're just kids, and they don't even know proper magic yet."

"Exactly," Daphne said, grinning. "So, Slytherin?"

Heather nodded. "I wouldn't mind being in your house. I'd like to stick with my new friend."

Daphne smiled, clearly pleased, and the two spent the rest of the ride chatting about what Hogwarts might be like.

When the train finally arrived, both girls were buzzing with excitement. They quickly slipped on their Hogwarts robes. Heather hesitated to leave her trunk behind in the compartment, her instincts screaming against it.

"It'll be fine," Daphne assured her. "Thievery isn't allowed at Hogwarts, and no one would be stupid enough to try."

Heather reluctantly let it go and followed Daphne off the train. The platform was packed with students, all talking excitedly as they spilled out into the crisp evening air. The first years were gathered up in front of the biggest man Heather had ever seen. He was taller than anyone she'd ever met, with a wild beard and hair that made him look like some kind of giant.

"First years, over here!" the man boomed. "Name's Hagrid. I'll be takin' yeh to the castle."

Heather was about to follow the crowd when Hagrid's eyes lit up, and he waved at someone in the group. "Hi there, Neville! How are yeh doin', lad?"

"It's Neville Longbottom!" someone whispered.

"The Boy Who Lived!"

"Wow!"

A cluster of students started gushing over a slightly chubby boy with a cocky grin on his face. She'd hoped to get to know him, but the way he was soaking up the attention reminded her of Dudley. Spoiled and full of himself. She was already getting bad vibes.

"Figures," Heather muttered under her breath.

Daphne noticed. "What?"

"Nothing," Heather said. "Just... he's not what I expected."

The students were soon led down to a fleet of small boats waiting by the edge of a dark lake. Heather and Daphne climbed into one, joined by two Indian girls who introduced themselves as Parvati and Padma Patil. As soon as everyone was seated, the boats began to move on their own, gliding across the water.

The girls gasped when the castle came into view, its towering spires and glowing windows reflecting on the surface of the lake. Heather's eyes widened. It was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen. She felt a surge of excitement. She was really here. She was about to learn magic in a place like this.

The boats reached the shore, and Hagrid led them up to the castle's massive doors. He paused, knocked once, and the doors opened. He gestured for the group to go inside before turning to leave.