𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒-ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 ℙ𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣❥

𝐏𝐎𝐀 𝟐

Ethan woke Emily the next morning by smacking her over the head with a pillow.

"Rise and shine, gremlin," he announced cheerfully.

Emily groaned, pulling the blanket over her head. "Go away."

"Wow. Rude," Ethan said, plopping down on the edge of her bed. "And here I was, bringing you tea out of the kindness of my heart."

Emily peeked out, spotting the steaming cup in his hand. Her glare softened—slightly. "You hit me with a pillow."

"You were taking too long to wake up." He grinned. "It was either this or dumping water on you. I went easy."

Emily sighed, sitting up and taking the cup from him. "You are the worst."

"And yet, here I am, your loving big brother, making sure you start your day with a cup of tea."

She took a sip, savoring the warmth. "I guess that makes you slightly less awful."

Ethan gasped, placing a hand over his chest. "High praise! I might cry."

Rolling her eyes, Emily threw a pillow at him, which he dodged with practiced ease. He chuckled as she finally got out of bed, rummaging through her closet before pulling on one of her favorite tops.

"Well, that only took a century," Ethan teased, leaning against the doorframe.

Emily stuck her tongue out at him. "Next time, wake me up like a normal person."

"Where's the fun in that?" he shot back, dodging another pillow before making a quick escape.

"The sooner we get on the train, the better," Harry said.

"At least I can get away from Percy at Hogwarts. Now he's accusing me of dripping tea on his photo of Penelope Clearwater. You know," Ron grimaced, "his girlfriend. She's hidden her face under the frame because her nose has gone all
blotchy..."

"I've got something to tell you," Emily began, but they were interrupted by Ethan, Fred and George, who had looked in to congratulate Ron on infuriating Percy again.

They headed down to breakfast, where Mr. Weasley was reading the front page of the Daily Prophet with a furrowed brow and Mrs. Weasley was telling Hermione and Ginny about a love potion she'd made as a young girl.

All three of them were rather giggly and Emily regretted not getting up earlier to be able to join in on the conversation.

"What were you saying?" Ron asked Emily as they sat down.

"Later," Emily muttered as Percy stormed in.

Emily had no chance to speak to Ron, Harry or Hermione in the chaos of leaving; they were too busy heaving all their trunks down the Leaky Cauldron's narrow staircase and piling them up near the door, with Hedwig and Hermes, Percy's screech owl, perched on top in their cages.

A small wickerwork basket stood beside the heap of trunks, spitting loudly.

"It's all right, Crookshanks," Hermione cooed through the wickerwork. "I'll let you out on the train."

"You won't," snapped Ron. "What about poor Scabbers, eh?"

He pointed at his chest, where a large lump indicated that Scabbers was curled up in his pocket.

Mr. Weasley, who had been outside waiting for the Ministry cars, stuck
his head inside.

"They're here," he said. "Emily, Harry, come on."

Mr. Weasley marched Emily and Harry across the short stretch of pavement toward the first of two old fashioned dark green cars, each of which was driven by a furtive looking wizard wearing a suit of emerald velvet.