((As ever, I own nothing. Any and all recognizable characters, places, events, etc belong to J.K Rowling. To those of you who read Just so Long and Long Enough, I promise this one is lighter. A LOT lighter...and should have a happy ending, in some way.

And so, Chapter One. As always, reviews/favorites/alert adds are loved. Please keep in mind that this is, for me, purely play, and I don't put much time into truly editing, even though I probably should. I apologize in advance for any discrepancies you may notice. If you catch them, feel free to point them out. It'll be like an Easter Egg hunt. Or something.
Anyway, ignore my silliness, and enjoy! This Hufflepuff very much hopes that you do.))

It was eleven in the morning on a Saturday. She would always remember that, though the date itself would slip her mind, as dates always did. But she knew it was eleven on a Saturday because they had all been sitting at the round white breakfast table, surrounded by the glow of sunlight coming in through the flimsy white curtains on the windows. Her father had been reading the paper, pajama-clad legs crossed while her mother in her dressing robe sipped coffee and flipped through the glossy pages of Witch Weekly. Her two older brothers had scarfed down full plates of eggs and bacon and were now discussing, loudly, something to do with Quidditch. Her little sister, only three years old, had been perched happily on her lap, flipped through the brightly colored illustrations of Tales of Beedle the Bard. Their morning had been suddenly interrupted by the tapping of owl talons at the window.

Much to her displeasure, her eldest brother got there first, allowing three owls in to drop letters, one by one, in front of the three oldest Hargrave children. Frustratingly, they seemed to drop in order of age - Gerard, then Alan, and then (finally!) Bonnie.

The Hargrave children all looked alike. One glance could tell that they were siblings. The same shaped eyes that varied from Alan's true blue to Bonnie's almost-green. The same smiles. The eldest and the youngest leaned more toward the looks of their father - Gerard and little Poppy's hair was finer, straighter, though all four shared variants of the same golden coloring. Gerard and Poppy both had darker gold, Alan's was sandy, and Bonnie's was an almost silvery-gold, fairer than the rest. Ger and Poppy's eyes were similar stormy blue-greys, their features more pronounced. The two middle children looked like their mother: more deeply colored eyes...Alan's a perfect, solid blue, Bonnie's the same with a reaching starburst of green around the pupil. Their features were finer, small noses and higher cheekbones. Bonnie had a light dusting of freckles across her nose and cheekbones, a feature she shared with the sister sitting on her lap.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Their mother asked, smiling at her children with their letters in their hands. "Open them up!"
Clarisse and Robert Hargrave were both fairly young, and still very much in love. Clarisse was very pretty with her fine features and deep blue eyes, the long strawberry-blonde hair that always seemed perfectly combed and prettily done. She was of middling height and slender, with long-fingered hands and a mouth more inclined to smiling than frowning. She was gentle and quiet, a woman who lived for her children but seemed to instinctively know when to draw them close and when to let them go. She had been a Hufflepuff in her Hogwarts years, loyal and trustworthy until the ends of the earth. Robert, with his broad features, broad shoulders, and height cut a rather formidable figure, though his gold-blonde hair and bright eyes seemed to soften the image. He was a stern man, but good, a man who loved his family and guarded them fiercely. His voice was a deep rumble, his laugh a thing that seemed to erupt like a volcano from the very depths of him. He had been a Ravenclaw, and kept his studious tendencies. His love for books was displayed in every room of the house in overflowing shelves.

"It's just the same thing as every year," Gerard grumbled, even as he slipped his thumb beneath the envelope flap.
"Ger," Robert said warningly. The fifth-year Ravenclaw shrugged as he scanned his list of supplies.
"It is," he said. "Same thing as always."
Thirteen year old Alan read his list and then passed it to his mother, who held out her hand for Ger's, as well. Alan was living proof that Houses didn't always travel in families - he was the first Gryffindor in the Hargrave family in generations. Most of them had been Ravenclaws, with a Slytherin slipped in here and there.

Bonnie stared down at her envelope, trying to evade her sister's honey-sticky fingers.
"Bon?"
She looked up at her mother who smiled at her.
"What are you waiting for, my love?"
Bonnie bit her lip, shrugged, and opened her envelope slowly.
What if Hogwarts didn't want her? What if she was a Squib? She didn't think she could be a Squib. Hadn't she made that garden rake turn to rubber when Ger had pretended to attack her with it? Hadn't she caused those teacups to dance in her excitement when her parents had told her she'd soon have a little brother or sister?
She sucked her breath in and pulled the paper out, released it in a rush when she saw the words:
"Dear Miss. Hargrave, we are pleased to inform you..."
Her smile took over her face, and she squeezed Poppy happily.
"What did you think?" Ger asked, laughing. "That you wouldn't get in?"
"Yes, actually," Bonnie replied, her voice its usual piano-soft. She was suddenly surrounded by the chuckles of her brothers and father, the gentle smile of her mother.
"Oh, darling," Clarisse said, "Of course you would!"
Bonnie shrugged and passed the list to her mother, who stacked the three neatly.
"Alan's going to need new robes, this year," she noted, her eyes growing soft. "He's grown so much this year..."
"Mum!"
"Oh, sweetie, stop. It's true. Anyway, we'll go to Diagon Alley tomorrow."
"Oh, mum, Violet's family invited me to go with them next weekend, can I skip..."
"Ohhh, Violet!" Alan teased with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
"Shut up,you..."
"Boys! Enough. You know your mother doesn't like it when you argue."
Robert turned the page of his newspaper and adjusted the wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.
"Ger, sweetheart, that's fine. I'll give you your list and the money when you go. Alan and Bonnie, we'll go tomorrow."
"And Poppy too?" the baby chirped, looking up expectantly.
"And Poppy, too," Clarisse agreed. "Papa does have to work tomorrow, after all."
"Aw, mum, you never let us go when we were little!" Alan complained.
"You all went at Poppy's age," Clarisse replied. She uncrossed her dainty ankles and stood, taking Poppy from Bonnie's lap. "I stopped bringing you when you were old enough to want racing brooms and eagle owls. Now," she said, looking happily at her youngest daughter's sticky face, "Let's get you cleaned up, little one, shall we?"

Clarisse and Poppy disappeared up the stairs, leaving Robert to continue on with his paper while Alan teased Ger about Violet and Bonnie propped her chin on her hand, thinking happily of Diagon Alley and Hogwarts and wondering which House would be hers.

In her memory, Diagon Alley was a blur of robes and people, dripping with Fortescue's strawberry ice cream. For the most part, she recognized happily, it was all the same. But now tnat it preceded her first trip to Hogwarts, it was all so much better. The ice cream was sweeter, the colors were brighter, the people more wonderful. Their first stop was Madam Malkin's for new robes - Madam Malkin seemed to fall over herself to look after them. Clarisse, after all, came from an old French Pureblood family known for their money.
After the robes had been sized and purchased, Clarisse sent Alan to Flourish and Blotts with strict orders not to stop along the way. He would pick up both sets of books while Clarisse and Bonnie made their most important stop: Ollivander's, for Bonnie's wand.

"Ahh, Clarisse Proulx. Now Clarisse Hargrave, if I'm not mistaken. Wand of twelve inches, Acacia, with the tail hair of a particularly fine unicorn mare, if I'm not mistaken."
Clarisse smiled.
"Correct as always, Mr. Ollivander," she said, shifting Poppy on her hip. "This is my second-youngest, Bonnie. It's her first year at Hogwarts."
"Hmm. Another Hargrave. Your brothers both proved quite interesting to find wands for, Miss. Hargrave, quite interesting. Especially young Alan. Thirteen inches, apple, with a phoenix tail hair. Quite rare, quite rare indeed. And your eldest brother: Ash, with the tail hair of a unicorn. Quite a loyal wand, that one. And your father: Fourteen inches, laurel, with the tail hair of an unusually bold male unicorn. I remember every wand I ever sold, Miss. Hargrave, just as I will remember yours.I trust they are all doing well?"
"Yes, sir," Bonnie said meekly. Mr. Ollivander, with his moon-like eyes and mysterious voice set her rather on edge. He seemed to look right through her rather than at her, and she found she would quite like to get her wand and move on. Her mother had promised her a pet, after this, and the thought cheered her enormously.
"Good, good. Now, let me see...ah! Let's try this one, shall we? Acacia, unicorn tail hair, ten inches."
But no sooner had Mr. Ollivander handed her the wand than he plucked it away.
"No, no," he murmured, and moved toward the back of the store. Behind Bonnie, Clarisse and Poppy sat down on the single, spindly chair by the window.
"Rowan, twelve inches, unicorn tail."
Once again, the wand was plucked from her grasp before she could so much as brandish it. Bonnie turned back to her mother who shrugged and gave her an encouraging smile.
"Don't worry, dear," she said quietly. "Mr. Ollivander is the best wand maker around. He'll find one for you."
"All the best wands take time," he said. "The wand chooses the witch or wizard, you know. And while that Rowan seemed to like you, it wasn't quite the thing. Now...apple, with a dragon heartstring core. Particularly stubborn. Give it a try."
Bonnie actually got to hold this one for a moment before it was taken away. This seemed to continue for quite some time, interrupted with Mr. Ollivander's comments about his adoration of a challenge.
"I think," he said, finally, emerging once more from the back of the store, "this may have something. Eleven inches, cedar, with the tail hair of a unicorn. Unassuming, but really quite powerful."

She felt it as soon as the slender wand was placed in her hands. A tingle in her fingers that seemed to spread throughout her body. A sunburst of gold sparks showered from the tip, falling as gracefully as snowflakes and disappearing before they hit the ground.
"Ahhh," Mr. Ollivander said, silvery eyes gleaming. "There it is. My father, Gervais Ollivander, used to say "you will never fool the cedar carrier," and he is quite right. I have never met a cedar owner who I would care to cross, especially if harm is done to those of whom they are fond. You must possess great loyalty and strength of character, Ms. Hargrave. Cedar wands are particularly difficult to place. Especially when paired with unicorn hair - a more loyal, dependable wand you're unlikely to find."

Clarisse paid Mr. Ollivander for the wand and thanked him before leading Bonnie out of the tiny shop and into the bright sunlight.
"One last stop, then," she said. They'd picked up the cauldrons and scales, vials and ingredients already, and Alan had purchased the books. Their last stop was Eyelops Owl Emporium and Menagerie. Alan's rat had caught sick the previous year and died, poor thing. It had been a wonderful pet, too, sleek and white as snow with the sweetest temper. He had decided to purchase an owl now, though, something with which his parents quite agreed.
They left Eyelops with a beautiful tawny owl for Alan, and Bonnie happily carried a tiny kitten, all white but for black splotches on the tips of his ears and tail, and around his left eye.
Alan, rather predictably, settled on Godric for his owl. Bonnie took longer on names, mulling over the options as she happily stroked her new kitten's soft fur.
Finally, she settled on Milton.

The summer passed in a great rush, and the morning of September First dawned, cloudy and grey. A light rain had begun to fall as they entered King's Cross station, trunks and pet carriers neatly assembled on carts. Robert went first through the wall between Platforms Nine and Ten, followed soon after by Ger, and then Alan. Bonnie faced the wall and ran toward it as she had all of those years to see her brothers off. This time, there was no hand to drag her through. Just her own feet, and her own hands on the cool handbar of the cart. In an instant she was through, with her mother and Poppy close behind. Clarisse slipped an arm around Bonnie's shoulders and gave her daughter a light squeeze.
"Who gave you permission to grow up so quickly?" She asked, gently teasing. "You were supposed to stay a baby forever."
"Sorry, mum," Bonnie said. She blew at a strand of hair that had escaped its ponytail. "Maybe Poppy will comply."
"I somehow doubt it," Clarisse said with a sigh.
"I'm a big girl," Poppy informed her sister solemnly.
"You see?" Clarisse said, laughing as the three caught up to the three ahead of them.

The goodbyes, thankfully, were relatively painless, though Bonnie could already feel homesickness blossoming somewhere near her stomach. Their father helped to stow their trunks before they regrouped on the platform for hugs and kisses and promises to write. Once on the train Ger, who had been made Prefect along with his girlfriend, Violet, disappeared almost immediately. He'd always been more distant, further in age than the other two and involved in his own affairs at Hogwarts, especially now that Violet had come along.
"Come on, Bonnie," Alan said, grinning at his sister as he slung an arm around her shoulders. "You can sit with us."
Alan's friends were a nice sort, if rather loud for Bonnie's tastes - mostly Gryffindors, though one wore the blue-and-bronze of Ravenclaw. They were all third years, but friendly to little Bonnie. Most of them had known her before their time at Hogwarts. These were Alan's oldest friends, children of their parents' friends who had spent enough time at the Hargrave home that they'd become like additional siblings. Adeline Jones was the Ravenclaw, a pretty, athletic girl with olive skin and dark hair who played Quidditch as a Chaser. Felix Maple was a Muggleborn who had dyed his hair outrageous colors over the summer. It stood up in tufts of neon yellow, orange, and red. It was as if his head had caught fire, even more startling than the Weasley's bright hair.

"You'll be in Fred and George's year," Addie told her as the train began to move. "They're Bill and Charlie's brothers. You know about Bill and Charlie, right?"
Bonnie nodded silently and glanced shyly at the boys, who were busy calling back and forth as they tossed a Quaffle around the compartment.
"Don't worry about them," Addie said. "You'll get used to all sorts while you're at Hogwarts. Which House do you think you'll be in?"
Bonnie shrugged. She'd been thinking about it all morning and hadn't really come to a conclusion.
"I'm not clever enough for a Ravenclaw," she said. "And I'm not at all cunning or ambitious or anything like that. I think maybe I'll be a Hufflepuff, like my mum, or a Gryffindor like Alan."
"Well. Ravenclaw isn't all cleverness, you know. You could still be one, like Ger. I don't think you're at all the Slytherin type, though. You're too sweet and honest. That's the only one I would rule out entirely, though."

Though she hated to admit it, Bonnie was glad she didn't seem the Slytherin type. According to Ger, their Common Room was under the lake - he had a friend or two in Slytherin, and had been to their Common Room, had come to know quite a few of the House members. According to him it was cool and dim, with a rippling light from the water. And the people were all cunning and ambitious, and some were downright sneaky and mean. It wasn't the kind of place she'd fit at all, she knew almost instinctively. And contrary to what Addie thought, she didn't think she could possibly be a Ravenclaw, either. Intelligence had never mattered so much to her - as long as people were good and kind or noble and brave she didn't much care what books they'd read or how much they knew. She loved to read, yes, but her interests ranged more toward adventures and fairy tales than Hogwarts: A History.
Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, it seemed, were the most likely candidates. And, she decided, she would be happy with either one.

Eventually, she decided she'd had enough of flying Quaffles and questionable jokes. Placing Milton safely on her shoulder, she said goodbye to her brother and his friends and ventured out into the corridors, passing compartment after full compartment. Some she recognized as her brothers' friends. Some, she didn't recognize at all. Finally, at the very end of the train she found a compartment empty but for a boy about her own age, who stared through the window. There was a book open in his lap but he wasn't reading it. A big black cat with the greenest eyes Bonnie had ever seen blinked up at her and Milton. The kitten blinked back at her with his little golden eyes and mewed questioningly. At the noise, and the deeper meow of his own cat, the boy looked up.

He was the kind of boy who promised to be quite good-looking as he grew older, in an imperious, regal way. And though Bonnie didn't know enough to think this, herself, she did think that he looked something like the young prince in some of the darker stories. His hair was neatly cut and combed, black as the fur of his cat. His features were elegant, regal even, his eyes a strange amber-brown, like the brandy her father sometimes drank. His mouth was thin, his nose sharp, an odd collection of features that, if not arranged correctly, could have been quite disastrous.
"Would you mind if I joined you?" Bonnie asked. "It's just so loud everywhere else."
Unexpectedly, the boy smiled.
"Please," he said, and gestured to the seat across from him. Relieved, Bonnie sat down cross-legged, her long uniform skirt covering her knees. She put Milton in her lap, and looked up at the boy.
"I'm Bonnie Hargrave," she said, wondering why he was dressed as if he were going to a funeral - he hadn't yet changed into his school clothes, and was wearing a finely-tailored suit of very dark grey, with a black tie. The only jolt of color were two small ruby cufflinks that flashed deep red when the light shifted. "I'm a first year."
"I'm one, as well," the boy said, though he seemed reluctant to tell her his name. Though he seemed to watch her carefully as he said it, he finally relented. "I'm Ian," he said. "Ian Rosier."

Rosier. Rosier...why did it sound familiar?
And then, suddenly, she remembered. Her parents' voices, discussing the war. Rosier had been a Death Eater, along with Avery and Mulciber, other names she'd heard discussed quietly.
The boy sitting across from her was the son of a Death Eater.

"If you don't want to sit here anymore," he said quietly, "I understand."
"Did you know your father?" Bonnie asked, with more boldness than she thought she had. She covered her mouth immediately after. "Oh," she said, "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer..."
"No, it's...it's fine." The boy ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it down. "Dad...wasn't around much," he said. "And I was nine when he died. My mum was crazy for him, though. Really missed him when he was gone, which was always. When he died, she...my Aunt Druella brought me to the station. Mum hardly leaves the house anymore."

Bonnie felt a sting of pity for the boy - she, who had grown up in a happy, loving family and a pretty country house with sunlight everywhere, could hardly imagine the dark, shadowy mansion this boy must have inhabited, the cold people. The ghost of his father and what he had done.
"Well," Bonnie said, "You're not a Death Eater, are you?"
The boy shook his head slowly.
"Good. See, then?" She smiled at him and he, caught off guard, smiled back. "I quite like you, already. Who's this?"
She pointed to the cat, who blinked at her with those beautiful green eyes.
"Matilda," the boy said. The cat's ears flicked back at the mention of her name. "My mum's cat had kittens, and she's the only one we kept. Who is yours?"
"Milton," said Bonnie. "I got him when we went to Diagon Alley."

The snack cart came, and the two bought Chocolate Frogs and licorice wands, Bertie Bott's and Ice Mice as well as some Cauldron Cakes and Pumpkin Pasties to share. They spent the long train ride talking and laughing, warming up to each other quickly in the way children often do. Sooner than Bonnie thought possible, they had pulled to a stop in Hogsmeade Station.
"Firs' years, this way!"
Her eyes lit up with excitement as she turned to her companion.

Hogwarts!