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Molly fixed Siobhan up a bed in a room with Ginny. Ginny was Molly and Arthur's daughter, along with their sons Ron, Fred, George, Bill, Percy, and Charlie. Harry Potter, a boy with messy dark brown hair and green eyes, had just arrived that afternoon. He was friends with mostly Ron, but knew all the Weasleys well. Siobhan was a stranger to them all and found it incredibly awkward while sitting at the dinner table, playing around with her broccoli and roast potatoes.
"Do you go to Hogwarts, Siobhan?" Ginny asked. She was the youngest Weasley but her sparky brown eyes and long, fiery red hair made her stand out just as much as the rest of them did with their loud rambling. It was also clear from her constant glances at Harry that she had a crush on him.
"No, I was homeschooled." She bit her tongue, "I mean, I would love to go there, I'm just not sure how to enroll." It wasn't a lie. She never got the chance to enroll. Her parents were too scared with Voldemort and the rumors that floated around about his connection to Hogwarts, so they raised her with the help of the Guardians. It was very isolating; she didn't have any friends her age, but she was grateful she got to spend the amount of time with her parents that normal children didn't have the luxury of doing. And the best way to find the boy that was going to battle Voldemort would be to go where young wizards spent the majority of their time.
"Well, I'm sure we can figure something out, right Arthur?" Molly looked to Arthur and he quickly nodded.
"I don't see why not," said Arthur.
Siobhan blushed, "Thank you for all of this, really."
"Don't worry, Siobhan, Mum and Dad take in all the strays." George grinned. Or it was Fred. It was hard to tell which twin was which.
"Fred Weasley!" Molly scolded. "Siobhan is a guest, treat her kindly."
"It's okay," Siobhan smiled at her and then squinted at Fred. He merely returned the smile innocently. A demon in sheep's clothing, she couldn't help but think.
"Speaking of strays, when's Hermione getting here?" Ron asked.
"Who's Hermione?" Siobhan asked before Molly could reprimand another son.
"A friend. She goes to Hogwarts too," Ron replied. "We're all going to the Quidditch World Cup tomorrow."
Siobhan nodded. She knew what that was. Her dad had been a big fan of the Irish team before he had been murdered by Voldemort. He used to dress up in the colors of the flag and parade around the house, green and white and orange fireworks shooting out of his wand. Her mother, who was extremely British, laughed at his antics and scolded him for scorching her ceiling. Siobhan gripped her fork at the memory.
"Would you like to come? I'm sure we have a spare sleeping bag," Arthur offered.
Siobhan shook her head, "Oh no, I couldn't. You all barely know me." It was absurd these people were being so nice to her despite not knowing her for very long. They could all be Death Eaters for all she knew.
