VI
Thalia spent the rest of the day in a nervous frenzy, her thoughts spiraling in a loop of anxiety and anticipation. She deliberately avoided the twins and any Gryffindor they were associated with; her usual routes through the castle were replaced by quieter, less-traveled corridors. Even lunch offered no reprieve; she chose to hide at the back of the library, tucked behind a towering stack of books. The soft whispers of other students and the occasional turn of a page provided a temporary solace, knowing the twins never ventured into the library, citing a particularly bad allergy to the room and the librarian that resided there.
By the time her final class, Ancient Runes, began, her nerves had reached their peak. The normally fascinating intricacies of runic texts blurred before her eyes as she stared blankly at her parchment. Her leg bounced incessantly under the desk, a rhythm of pent-up energy and apprehension she couldn't suppress.
As Professor Babbling droned on about the symbolic interplay of Elder Futhark runes in ancient protective charms, Thalia’s quill hovered above the page, poised but unmoving. Her notes were sparse and unfocused, her thoughts racing far from the lesson. She couldn't stop replaying the events of the day—Fred's teasing smirk, George's gentle reassurance, and her tentative agreement to join them for dinner.
What if she made a fool of herself? What if they were only joking, and she was walking into some elaborate prank? What if they just felt sorry for the lonely Hufflepuff?
The bell signaling the end of class startled her, breaking her from her swirling thoughts. Stuffing her things into her bag, she tried to steady herself with a deep breath. Dinner was next, and she couldn’t delay any longer. Or could she?
Deciding to quickly head to the dungeons to drop off her bag, Thalia moved briskly through the crowded halls, deftly weaving between clusters of students. Her heart raced as her feet carried her along the familiar path. Reaching her underground room, she threw her bag onto her desk with a huff and hurried to inspect her reflection in the small mirror above the dresser.
The glamour charms she'd cast that morning had held up throughout the day, concealing her injuries well. However, her hair told a different story. The crunchiness at the back of her head was a telltale sign that the wound had bled at some point without her noticing. The stiffened curls made her grimace in frustration—she had neither the time to wash it nor the means to heal a wound she couldn’t even see.
Swallowing her irritation, Thalia reached for her hairbrush and began working her caramel curls into a sleek French braid. Each motion tugged at her scalp, sending faint waves of discomfort rippling down her neck, but she persisted. Once the braid was complete, she tugged a few strands loose around her face, allowing them to curl naturally and soften her look.
Stepping back, she surveyed the result. Her reflection wasn’t perfect, but it was presentable. Good enough for dinner with Gryffindors, she thought with a faint smirk. Gathering her courage, she turned and left her room, heading toward the Great Hall.
The hallways were significantly quieter as Thalia made her way back up to the Great Hall. The low hum of muffled conversations grew louder with each step, swelling into the vibrant buzz of dinner in full swing. Stilling herself with a deep breath, she timidly pushed through the towering doors. The scene before her was as lively as ever—students crowded the long tables, chatting animatedly, the enchanted ceiling reflecting a twilight sky dotted with stars.
Thalia hesitated, her eyes scanning the sea of faces for the unmistakable red hair of the Weasley twins. Before she could spot them, a loud, familiar voice rang out above the din.
"Lia!"
George was striding briskly down the central pathway, his grin broad and welcoming. Behind him, Fred had risen from his seat at the Gryffindor table, waving both arms wildly in an obnoxiously exaggerated manner. A ripple of chuckles and eye-rolls followed from the Gryffindor students around him.
George reached her first, chuckling as he spoke, "I thought you'd gotten lost! Come on, we're all over here. It might be a bit of a squash, but we'll make it work."
Thalia allowed herself a small smile, the warmth in George's expression easing her nerves just a little. "You two don't do subtle, do you?" she murmured, glancing at Fred's dramatic display.
"Never heard of the word," George quipped, leading her toward the table.
The walk toward the Gryffindor table was marked by an awkward sort of silence, both Thalia and George fumbling internally for conversation starters that never came. Instead, the quiet persisted until they reached the table, where a cluster of curious Gryffindors turned their heads to observe the newcomer from a different house.
George broke the silence with a dramatic flourish of his hand. "Everyone, this is Lia. Lia, meet the gang: Lee, Angelina, Alicia, Katie, Ron, Hermione, Harry, Neville, and Ginny."
Thalia's gaze flicked to each person as George introduced them, their faces a mix of polite curiosity and warm smiles. A few of them waved, and Thalia offered a shy but genuine smile in return.
Before she could decide where to sit, Ginny leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, "I don't mean to be forward, but please sit." Without waiting for an answer, Ginny grabbed Thalia's wrist and gently tugged her into the seat beside her.
The redhead discreetly glanced over her shoulder, her tense shoulders softening as a boy wandered away from the table, casting the group a mournful look. She sighed dramatically. "Sorry about that. Michael's been so clingy lately, I can't even brush my teeth without him asking if I need help."
"Your boyfriend?" Thalia asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow.
"Unfortunately," Ginny groaned, slumping forward to rest her head on the table.
Thalia, ever mindful, reached out and delicately adjusted Ginny's hair so it wouldn’t trail into the gravy on her plate. "Well, that sounds… suffocating," she remarked, unable to suppress a small grin.
"It is," Ginny mumbled into the table, making Thalia laugh softly as the rest of the group chuckled at their exchange.
"Trouble in paradise," Fred teased, shaking his head with a grin.
Ginny shot him a withering glare. "At least I can get someone to stay with me. Any girl that even comes near you bolts like they’re being chased by a hydra. Watch it, Lia will be next!"
Thalia couldn’t stop the loud laugh that burst out of her, quickly smacking a hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle it.
"You wouldn't believe it," George exclaimed, his eyes glinting with amusement, "but that's the second time in as many days that someone’s said something like that!" He nudged Thalia gently, and she let out another chuckle, shaking her head.
"I take it you didn’t meet under the best circumstances, then?" Neville chimed in curiously, glancing between the twins as Alicia and Angelina sent them simultaneous glares of disapproval.
"You could say that," Thalia replied with a laugh, scooping a healthy portion of macaroni and cheese onto her plate.
Fred scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "She might have fallen victim to a paint bomb," he mumbled, avoiding everyone's pointed looks.
"A paint bomb?" Hermione repeated, aghast.
"To be fair," Thalia added, trying to suppress a grin, "I think the paint bomb was probably the least of my problems at the time."
The table erupted into laughter, and Fred threw up his hands defensively. "It was all in the name of harmless fun!"
"Speak for yourself," Thalia muttered, giving Fred a mock glare. "I was the one left cleaning up the mess, sent to detention, then scared half to death!"
"Details, details," Fred waved her off, with a smirk. "And yet, here you are, willingly sitting with us. I think that proves we’re not so bad."
"That or I’m too hungry to care," Thalia shot back playfully, earning more laughter from the group.
The rest of the meal unfolded in much the same way, a lively mix of laughter, teasing, and easy banter. Thalia found herself gradually settling into the warm and bustling environment, her initial nerves dissolving with every shared joke or friendly comment.
At one point, she found herself deep in conversation with Hermione, who sat forward with wide-eyed disbelief as Thalia listed off the sheer number of NEWT classes she was taking.
"How do you even manage that many subjects?" Hermione asked, her tone hovering somewhere between awe and horror.
"Not well," Thalia admitted with a laugh, "but somehow, I haven’t failed anything yet. Emphasis on yet."
Later, she joined in a spirited discussion with the Quidditch players about their upcoming match. Angelina was mapping out strategies with a fork and some stray peas while Fred and George took turns arguing over who would hit the most people with stray bludgers.
"Neither of you," Alicia interjected, rolling her eyes. "Not if you’re too busy trying to prank the other team to actually play the game."
“Maybe Lia here could give us some insight into the Hufflepuf’s strategy?” Katie joked, looking up at Thalia with pleading eyes.
Thalia laughed, holding her hands up in mock surrender, “I’m not part of the team, never have been!”
Her favorite part of the evening, though, was the easy, nostalgic chat she had with Ginny, Ron and the twins. They recounted tales of their childhood, painting a vivid picture of a chaotic but joy-filled home.
"Fred once charmed a snowball to chase Percy for an entire day," Ginny laughed, her eyes sparkling at the memory.
"Correction," Fred piped up with mock seriousness. "It was George’s idea."
George raised a brow. "Right, because you were so busy being the responsible one," he retorted, making Thalia burst out laughing.
“You were always charming things and pretending it was a sudden burst of magic! Like the time you transfigured my teddy into a giant spider!” Ron shouted, laughter underpinning the tone of horror.
“That’s awful,” Thalia giggled, turning to slap George on the back of the head.
“It wasn’t me!” George yelled defensively, cowering away from her, “but pranking your younger siblings is just a right of passage!”
By the end of the meal, her cheeks ached from smiling, and she felt a warm contentment she hadn’t experienced in far too long.
As the meal wound down, the group began to disperse. Katie, Alicia, and Angelina were the first to excuse themselves, bidding everyone goodnight as they stood to leave.
“It was great to meet you, Lia,” Angelina said warmly, pausing before adding, “If you wouldn’t mind helping me with potions at some point, that’d be amazing. Maybe we could do a girls' study session in the library?”
“Yes—” Thalia stammered, caught off guard but pleasantly surprised. “That would be great!”
Angelina smiled before the trio headed off, their chatter fading as they disappeared down the corridor.
Next came Hermione, who rose with a purposeful determination, her hands firmly grasping Harry and Ron’s robes.
“Come on, you two. That homework isn’t going to finish itself,” she admonished, ignoring Ron’s exaggerated groan of protest.
“Goodnight, Lia,” she added with a small smile before steering her reluctant companions out of the hall.
Before long, it was just Thalia and the twins left at the table, the Great Hall now quieter, save for the occasional clink of dishes being cleared by house-elves. Fred leaned back precariously on the bench, balancing on two legs as he grinned at Thalia.
“Well, that was successful, don’t you think?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes sparkling with satisfaction.
“They were all lovely,” Thalia agreed, her voice soft. A small smile tugged at her lips as she thought back on the easy camaraderie of the evening.
Fred wobbled dangerously on the bench, earning a warning glance from George. “Lovely and suitably charmed by your wit, I’d say,” Fred teased, smirking.
George rolled his eyes. “Subtle as ever, Fred.” Turning to Thalia, his expression softened. “But he’s right—everyone seemed to really take to you.”
Thalia ducked her head slightly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Thanks. I wasn’t expecting…well, any of this, honestly.”
“Well, get used to it,” Fred said, leaning forward with an exaggerated air of sincerity. “You’ve entered the world of the Weasleys, Lia. It’s a wonderfully chaotic place, but I promise you won’t regret it.”
“Unless we prank you,” George added with a mischievous grin, making Thalia laugh.
"I've already had quite enough of your pranks, thank you very much!" Thalia said, eyeing the two grinning boys with mock severity.
Fred scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah... we still owe you for that one."
"How's your hand?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder to ensure no one was nearby to overhear.
Thalia pulled back the sleeve of her robe, revealing her bandaged hand. The twins, in turn, showed her the backs of theirs, still red and raw, with the edges of the cuts tinged a faint yellow. She frowned, concern flashing across her face as she grabbed George's hand to examine it more closely.
"You need to take better care of this!" she scolded, her tone stern but laced with worry. "It already looks like it might be getting infected." Her fingers moved instinctively, tracing soothing circles on George's palm as she studied the wound with knitted brows.
“Do you mind?” she questioned, looking up at the blushing boy, whilst brandishing her wand.
George's cheeks flushed crimson, and he stammered, "I-I don’t,” he cleared his throat. "I mean, do what you need to. It’s fine—really."
"It might hurt a little," she warned, raising her wand. Gently, she tapped his hand, casting a sanitizing spell that made him wince but didn’t let go of her hand. Carefully, she cleaned the wound, ensuring every trace of grime was gone before charming a pristine white bandage to wrap neatly around it.
"There," she said with a satisfied nod. "That should help. Fred, you’re next."
Fred groaned dramatically as he extended his hand. "If I lose this hand, I’ll be suing for negligence."
"Oh, stop being a baby," Thalia retorted, rolling her eyes as she began cleaning his cut.
Fred squirmed and hissed under his breath. "I think it would’ve been less painful if you’d just amputated it," he grumbled, clutching his hand to his chest as soon as she finished.
"You’re lucky I didn’t use dittany," she quipped, giving him a pointed look.
"Yeah, yeah. I think you secretly enjoy torturing me," Fred muttered, though the grin on his face betrayed his words.
George, now flexing his freshly bandaged hand, gave her a warm smile. "Thanks, Lia.”
"Well, someone has to keep you two from falling apart," Thalia replied, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.
"Yeah, but we got you into trouble in the first place, which led to you getting hurt," George said, his tone soft and unusually sincere as he looked at her. "So... sorry. And thank you for, you know, forgiving us."
Thalia raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Oh, I haven’t forgiven you," she said, her voice light with mock seriousness. "I’m just silently plotting my revenge and waiting for the perfect moment to exact it."
Fred gasped dramatically, clutching his newly bandaged hand to his chest. "You wouldn’t dare, Lia! I’m too delicate for that kind of treachery!"
Thalia laughed, crossing her arms and smirking. "Oh, I would. I’m just biding my time. You’ll never see it coming."
George chuckled, nudging Fred with his elbow. "See, Freddie? She’s more like us than we thought."
Fred gave a mock shudder. "A scary thought indeed. What have we unleashed?"
Thalia shook her head, smiling as she gathered her things. "I guess you'll find out soon enough. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get some actual rest before you two drag me into whatever chaos you’re cooking up next."
"Don’t worry," Fred said with a wink. "We’ll keep the chaos manageable—for your sake."
Thalia raised her eyebrows sceptically but couldn’t help the grin that tugged at her lips.
"Goodnight, boys," she laughed as she stood up from the bench, stretching her arms above her head to try and relieve the ache in her back.
"You’ll join us for breakfast tomorrow though, right?" Fred asked, a frown creasing his brow. George, on the other hand, looked at her with wide, pleading eyes that made it impossible to say no.
"If I’m invited," Thalia replied with a shrug, aiming for a casual tone even as her heart raced. Inside, her brain was stuck on a single word, repeating over and over: friends.
Fred rolled his eyes dramatically. "Of course you’re invited! You think we go around dragging just anyone into paint bombs and pranking mayhem?"
"Think of this as a rolling invitation," George added with a warm smile. "You’re always welcome to sit with us. No questions asked."
Thalia felt the corners of her lips tug into a smile, and this time she didn’t hold it back. "Alright then. I’ll see you in the morning."
She turned and walked away, her steps feeling lighter than they had in days. Behind her, she could hear Fred muttering something cheeky to George, followed by a soft laugh. For the first time in what felt like forever, Thalia allowed herself to look forward to tomorrow.
~.~.~
The rest of the week unfolded in a whirlwind of measured chaos and excitement. Thalia found herself joining the Gryffindors for nearly every meal, quickly becoming a fixture at their table. The joking and banter flowed effortlessly, and she felt a strange but comforting sense of belonging as she dove into their gossip and teasing, catching up with stories and drama from years gone by.
The girls had welcomed her into their library study sessions, though "study" was often a generous description. When she studied with Angelina, Alicia and Katie, quiet reading frequently dissolved into bursts of outrageous giggles that earned them pointed glares from Madam Pince. When she was studying with the younger girls- Ginny and Hermione- she made sure to take time reading over their essays, offering corrections and patiently explaining some of the more complex theories that had tripped them up.
Ginny appeared to find these study sessions particularly helpful, often exclaiming that Thalia explained things far better than their professors did. She'd beam proudly whenever she finally grasped a concept that had been eluding her, and her enthusiasm was contagious. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to view these gatherings as an opportunity to engage in rigorous academic debates.
The younger girl would seize on any topic that intrigued her, questioning Thalia with a sharp, curious intensity. Whether it was about the finer points of runes translation, the intricate theory behind Arithmancy, or even advanced potion composition, Hermione delighted in picking Thalia's brain. Thalia, for her part, found herself both impressed and slightly overwhelmed by Hermione’s relentless thirst for knowledge.
It wasn’t uncommon for the others to roll their eyes good-naturedly as Hermione and Thalia delved into yet another theoretical discussion, their voices growing more animated as the debate went on.
“Honestly, you two should just teach the class at this point,” Ginny teased one afternoon, resting her chin in her hand as she watched the exchange with a bemused expression.
“Or at least write the textbook,” muttered Katie, trying to stifle a yawn.
"It appears the twins have found themselves their very own Granger," Lee had joked that evening, leaning back in his chair with a sly grin as he watched Thalia and Hermione animatedly discuss the finer points of advanced transfiguration theory.
The comment earned a round of laughter from the table, particularly from Fred, who clutched his chest dramatically. "Oi, don’t lump us in with Hermione’s bookish lot. We have charm, wit, and an unmatched sense of mischief. Thalia’s much too interesting for that comparison."
Thalia scowled but retorted quickly, “I’d take being compared to Hermione as a compliment. At least she knows how to hold an intellectual conversation, unlike you.”
“Touché,” George said with a chuckle, raising his goblet in a mock toast. “But I have to agree with Lee. Our Lia is giving you a run for your Galleons in the brains department, Granger.”
Thalia blushed furiously at the unexpected praise, ducking her head as if the enchanted ceiling had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the room. “I wouldn’t say that,” she murmured. “Hermione’s brilliant.”
“And modest, too,” Ginny quipped, grinning. “You’re doomed, boys. She’s officially smarter and more likable than both of you combined.”
Fred feigned a gasp, clutching his twin’s arm. “Georgie, are we losing our edge?”
“Not possible,” George replied with mock indignation. “We’re simply diversifying. Lia here is our secret weapon.”
Perhaps the most surprising revelation from the week was how natural it all felt. Even when the twins weren’t around, she didn’t feel out of place. Instead, the group folded her into their dynamic as if she’d always been there, and for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to relax into their easy camaraderie.
~.~.~
When Saturday finally rolled around, a dull ache settled in her chest. Thalia sat quietly in her underground room, packing her things with far less enthusiasm than she’d unpacked them. Her week at the castle had given her a fleeting glimpse of what life could have been like—living with her peers, basking in their companionship and warmth, free from the cold isolation of her grandfather’s house.
As she folded the last of her clothes, she sighed, her fingers lingering on the soft fabric. A tiny, selfish part of her wished she could stay, to keep this slice of normalcy just a little longer. But deep down, she knew the fantasy couldn’t last.
Lugging her overstuffed bag up the familiar stone steps to the Great Hall, Thalia felt the weight of it pulling painfully on her shoulder. The straps dug into her skin, and she resisted the urge to huff aloud. The enchanted ceiling above glimmered with soft morning light as she entered, the low hum of chatter and clinking silverware wrapping around her like a warm blanket. Her heart twisted at the thought that this was her last breakfast with the Gryffindors for the foreseeable future.
Sliding onto the bench, she shoved her bag beneath the seat, wedging it tightly so it wouldn’t topple over and spill its contents.
"Going on an expedition, Lia?" Lee teased from across the table, his sharp eyes narrowing as he noticed the bulging seams of her bag. A smirk tugged at his lips, earning a chuckle from Fred beside him.
Thalia gave him a lopsided smile, masking her nerves. "Nope, just studying after breakfast," she replied smoothly, brushing imaginary crumbs off her robes to avoid his piercing gaze. “Didn’t want to have to trek back to the common room to grab my things.” She avoided making eye contact, certain her lie would be written across her face if anyone looked too closely.
Fred raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. George, however, leaned forward with a loud groan, dropping his fork dramatically onto his plate. "But it’s the weekend!" he protested, his brown eyes filled with mock betrayal. “We were planning a mock Quidditch game this morning! Even Hermione—our very own bookworm extraordinaire—agreed to referee!”
Thalia let out a small laugh, her guilt doubling. "I’m taking eight NEWTs next year!” she said with a forced lightness, grabbing a piece of toast from the platter in front of her. “I’ve got so much to get done. You know how it is.”
Fred snorted, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Pretty sure you and Granger have done more homework this term than the rest of the school combined.”
Her smile tightened, and she glanced away, feigning interest in buttering her toast.
"You're taking eight NEWTs?" Ron exclaimed, his fork frozen mid-air. "Blimey, no wonder you're always studying."
Thalia shrugged, keeping her gaze fixed on her plate. "It's not that impressive," she muttered, stabbing at at eggs with unnecessary force.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Not impressive? Eight NEWTs is very impressive. I don’t know how you’re managing it, especially with the extra reading I see you doing. You’re bound to do brilliantly."
"Yeah, yeah, she’s brilliant, we know," Fred interrupted with a dramatic roll of his eyes. "But skipping out on us for some dusty books? That’s where we draw the line."
George nodded solemnly. "It’s practically a betrayal. We were counting on you, Lia. Who else is going to throw off my aim with those sarcastic quips from the sidelines?"
"Or even better—join our team?" Fred added with a hopeful grin.
Thalia shook her head, trying to ignore the pang of regret gnawing at her. "You don’t want me on your team. I’d probably fall off my broom before the game even started."
"You underestimate yourself," Ginny said brightly, nudging her with her elbow. "But fair enough. If you’re dead set on studying, we’ll just have to win without you."
The twins exchanged glances, clearly displeased with her decision. "Alright, studious one," Fred said with an exaggerated sigh. "But don’t be surprised if we send a bludger your way as a reminder of what you’re missing."
Thalia laughed softly, though the sound felt hollow. She’d miss this—the teasing, the laughing, the joking—but she couldn't risk letting her newfound friends see through her. They couldn't know the real reason she was hauling her bag around like a lifeline.
"Good luck with your game," she said, forcing a smile as she took another bite of toast. "I’ll be rooting for you from afar."
Fred’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he said nothing, instead elbowing George as he launched into a debate about which twin would win the match. Thalia let their banter wash over her, pretending she didn’t feel the weight of her secret pressing down on her chest.
As everyone finished up their breakfast and began to disperse, the lively chatter of the Great Hall shifted to the rustling of benches and the shuffle of feet. One by one, Thalia's newfound friends bid her farewell, each carrying their Quidditch gear or excitedly talking strategy for the mock game.
"You sure you don’t want to join?” Angelina asked, pausing to sling her broom over her shoulder.
“Positive,” Thalia replied, mustering a warm smile and brushing the girl off with a small wave. “Go and have fun.”
"You can always join us later if you get bored,” Ginny added hopefully, her wide eyes full of encouragement. The way she looked at Thalia mirrored the pleading glances her older brothers often gave, and it tugged at Thalia’s heart.
“I’ll be fine,” Thalia assured her, trying not to falter. “Knock Michael off his broom for me, yeah?” she teased, earning a snort from the younger Weasley.
Finally, it was Fred and George’s turn. The twins lingered at the table, exchanging a glance filled with some unspoken understanding before turning their attention to her.
“Enjoy your studies, Lia,” Fred said with a playful grin, giving her a mock salute. “Don’t work too hard. I’d hate for you to get wrinkles before NEWTs next year.”
George, however, hesitated, looking down at her with an expression that was far less teasing. "We’ll see you later, though? Right?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern. He grabbed another slice of toast, but his gaze never left her face.
“Yeah, I’ll see you around,” Thalia replied softly, her smile slipping for just a moment.
As she watched them retreat, their bright red hair glowing in the sunlight streaming through the hall’s tall windows, she felt an ache swell in her chest. The sight of Fred throwing an arm around George’s shoulders as they exited only made it worse. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back, determined not to cry in the middle of the Great Hall.
How is life this unfair? she thought bitterly. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head, as if the action alone could scatter the storm of emotions brewing inside her. She knew better than to dwell on self-pity—it would only pull her into a spiral she couldn’t afford.
With renewed resolve, Thalia stood and hoisted her bag over her shoulder. The weight of it pressed down like a reminder of everything she had to return to. Steeling herself, she walked briskly out of the Great Hall.
If you had been soaring high over the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch at just the right moment—careful to shield your eyes from the blinding sun—you might have noticed a solitary figure. Picking her way across the grounds, her pace quickened as she neared the wrought-iron gates of the school. Head down, shoulders hunched, she hurried past the threshold, the distant laughter and cheers of her friends fading behind her.
The solitary figure didn’t look back.