Previously: One morning in July the Potters wake up with a little girl standing on their front step, a letter to Harry in her hand, along with a Hogwarts letter with her name.

Chapter 2 – A Lonely Girl

Rose had always known she wasn't what was called normal. Her family had never failed to make it perfectly clear to her that she wasn't even close to normal. Her mom didn't actually mind, even though she asked the girl more than once to not do her "strange tricks" in public, as it might get the neighbours to look strangely at them. Jack, Rose's younger brother, had once been her best friend but once he started school he found out from his friends' older siblings that she was "a weirdo" and so he either mercilessly teased her or completely ignored her.

No matter how she was treated by her mom or brother, though, Rose's dad had always been the worse. She could remember a time when she had actually been his little girl, when he had given her anything she asked for and always told her how much he loved her and how sweet she was. Soon after she turned five, however, something very strange happened to her and ever since he had, at best, been coldly polite to her.

It hadn't really been her fault. She had been playing make-believe with two-year-old Jack and he had refused to comply to her rules and – in her opinion – amazing ideas. One thing had led to another and then, suddenly, Jack had levitated and was left hanging a few feet in the air, laughing happily. He couldn't remember it when he grew older, but their dad walked in on them and he had been completely furious. He had yelled at her, not stopping when she cried her eyes out. That very same night, when she woke up from a nightmare, she had gone to her parents' bedroom, only to find them awake.

"I wish you wouldn't say that, Dudders," her mom whispered anxiously to her angry dad.

"What do you want me to say then? The girl's a freak, just like he was!"

She hadn't stayed any longer, the ache in her chest too large already to be able to stand more hurtful words from her father. There was no doubt to her that he was talking about her and ever since that day, their relationship had ripped apart more and more until they were left with the broken pieces. There had been a few more strange incidents since then, but luckily her father hadn't been there to see them and her mother had anxiously asked her not to tell him. She didn't really need to be told that, as she already knew that her dad wouldn't appreciate the reminder of what a freak his daughter was.

By now, little Rose had turned eleven and had learned how to control her "incidents". It had taken practice and a lot of tears, but she was desperate not to have anyone else know what a weirdo she was and was convinced that it was worth it, in the end. Although most people in school still thought she was strange, they at least couldn't prove how right they were.

This summer, Rose's eleventh summer, was as bad as the last six so far. She had spent most of July ignoring her dad, who ignored her back, ignoring her brother and his annoying friends (at least he had friends, a voice in her head told her nastily) and rereading her favourite book series, Narnia, over and over again. She had always loved that story. Four siblings, sticking up for each other, even when one of them acted as crudely as Edmund did. Then there was the magic, and how it in the end turned out that they were destined to be royalty in a magical kingdom. She had spent so many sleepless nights wishing that she would one day fall through her own closet and end up in a magical country.

That hadn't happened so far, and nothing about this perfectly ordinary day could prepare her for what was about to happen. It was still raining, as it had been doing for the last couple of week throughout England. Rose was propped up on her bed with "The Horse and His Boy" in her hands. It was her grandmother's old and battered copy. On some places, a girl's neat handwriting had underlined favourite parts or commented on the story. She was so entrapped in the magical story that she didn't notice the hoots outside her window.

"Rose, what kind of music do you listen to?" her brother screamed from his room, next to hers.

"Shut up!" she yelled back, but then she heard it, too.

Curiously, she got up, book still in hand, and slowly approached the window to check what was going on. She opened it with one hand, still not having looked at it, and so was completely unprepared for the bird that suddenly flew into her bedroom.

"Oh my God!" she yelled and fell back on her bed, dropping the book on the floor as the bird sat down on her desk. Her heart was racing and she could barely breathe. The gross thing just stared at her and Rose, who had never liked birds, couldn't comprehend that one was currently in her bedroom. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!"

"What's wrong with you, Rose?" her brother called.

"Jack, shut up!" she panicky called out to him.

She could imagine that he was laughing at her, but the bird chose that particular moment to start flying again. The girl didn't notice the envelope that the bird had tied to his feet before it placed it right in front of her eyes. Still hyperventilating, she raised trembling hands, unsure of exactly what to do but figuring that the safest bet would be to free the bird of its letter.

"Like this?"

It just stared at her, but she took it for a yes and soon she was holding a yellow white envelope in her hands.

Rose Dursley
Pink bedroom
19 Vicar Lane
Bradford

The text seemed to be handwritten and was a beautiful, emerald green colour, much like her own eyes. She was about to rip it open when the door to the room was jerked open to reveal her father. He wore a smile on his face and for a second Rose could remember how everything used to be, but the moment he caught sight of the owl and the letter the smile dropped and his face drained of colour. He didn't say anything, just stared at her.

"Dad, I'm so sorry, I have no idea what is-"

"Just… I can't take this. Pack your things, you're… you're going away."

"I don't understand!" she whispered.

"I… Pack everything you need, I'll send you to Ha- to a man that I know, he will take care of this. I just… I can't."

He then grabbed the letter from her and left the room. The book still lay on the floor, a few of the pages folded. She absentmindedly picked it up, straightened the pages and stared at the book. Her heart still hadn't slowed down and she had no idea what was going on. Still half unaware of her actions, she took her trunk out from under her bed. It wasn't completely empty, the bottom still layered with some of her old school books and pencils that had long since broken. Feeling tears prickle behind her eyes, she threw it all onto her bed. Why was her dad sending her away? She knew he didn't like her very much, but from dislike to disowning there was a huge step and she had never thought that he would take it.

Into the trunk she threw clothes, a few books and other artefacts that she didn't think she would stand living without. Last she added her diary, pink with a purple heart in the middle, along with her favourite pencil. Then, tears still in her eyes, she closed the trunk and tried to lift it up. It should probably have been way too heavy for her to carry alone, but somehow it didn't seem that way and she carried it down the stairs without any problem.

The train station wasn't far from the Dursley home, yet the car ride there had never felt longer. Rose's dad was quiet for the whole time and Rose herself felt empty. She couldn't even cry, although she realized that if she ever should this would be the moment. Her dad was shaking, she couldn't tell if it was from anger or something else, and his face was red. When he had parked the car, he turned to here with something akin to fear in his eyes.

"You're going to go to a man called Harry Potter. I… that is, you're staying there."

She nervously noted that he didn't say how long, but didn't dare ask, too afraid that he would tell her that she was never coming back home. Her eyes were burning and she swallowed, not wanting to cry in front of her father. He handed her two letters, the one with green ink and another, with Harry Potter written in her father's handwriting.

"Give him the letters, they'll explain everything. He'll tell you what's going on, I think."

Soon she was alone on the train, staring out the window with tear filled eyes. It was night time and she could barely see her surroundings, as the darkness swallowed the green summer fields and joyous houses. Although she had packed it, she didn't bring out her book, too many feelings filling her up to be able to distract them with a book as she normally would. Therefore, she was shocked when she fell asleep in her seat, as her only home disappeared more and more.

She was alone.

Godric's Hollow was very small, but also very homey and cosy, Rose thought as she walked through the neighbourhood towards the house her father had directed her to. Most houses were old and those that weren't still looked like home, not houses. She passed by a graveyard and a small supermarket. The sun wasn't very warm and she was shivering, although it might as well be from all the emotions running through her.

The house, when she finally reached it, was small with beige brick stones. She didn't have time to ring the bell before the white door was opened and almost made her fall. The boy that had opened the door almost fell as well, backwards onto a large pile of shoes.

"Sorry!" she whispered to him.

He stood back up, apparently not at all embarrassed by the incident. Unlike her own brother, this boy had red hair like her own. He was probably fifteen or sixteen, she guessed, and had sparkling brown eyes despite the early morning. Her nerves calmed down a bit when he gave her a warm grin.

"Can I help you?" he asked her, grin still on his face.

"Sorry," she nervously said. "I'm looking for Mr Harry Potter?"

As she said the name, his smile dropped and he stared at her.

"Isn't it a little early for that?" he wondered, a little brusquely.

She swallowed again. "Sorry," she said once more, not wanting to annoy the nice boy. "I… dad said to go here. He said to give Mr Potter these letters."

The red-haired boy took the letters and read them. Apparently, that made him rethink his brusque manners. He smiled again – perhaps not as kind as last time, but nice enough.

"He's still asleep, but you can wait inside while I go wake him up?"

She gave him an almost invisible nod and then turned down the stairs to pick up her heavy truck. However, it proved too heavy for her to carry in her tired state and in the end he had to help her. She blushed furiously as he easily carried it up the stairs as if it was weightless. The entre was as messy as it had looked from the outside and Rose awkwardly stood there, not knowing what exactly she was supposed to do.

"Just wait here and I'll go get him," he told her before running up the stairs, two steps at a time.

Rose looked around. There were a few photographs on a bureau. Some of theme clearly pictured the boy at different ages. In other frames were the boy together with two other children, a boy and a girl. Probably his brother and sister, she thought. The looked so happy and with an ache in her heart she thought of her own brother. When would she see him again? Would he even miss her? She really wasn't sure.

Then, before she could finish her sad musings, a man came down the stairs with the boy following after him. For a second the adult had a strange look to him, but he quickly recovered.

"Mr Potter?" Rose asked quietly when it didn't look as if he would say anything.

"Indeed, and I guess that you're Rose?"

How could he know what she was called? Was this a friend of her dads that she had never heard about.

"I hoped this day wouldn't come," the man, assumingly Harry, said absentmindedly, and Rose stared at him. "Never mind," he then continued. "Would you like some tea, and maybe something to eat?" he asked the girl. "I'm sure James doesn't mind keeping you company while I go and have a quick talk with my wife."

"Sure," the boy, James, agreed. "If you want to?"

"That'd be very nice," Rose told him, very quietly. "If you don't mind?"

"'course not!" he smiled. It was a very nice smile and she couldn't help but return it. "This way…"

They walked through a cosy living room and then entered the kitchen. To Rose's surprise, the kitchen table was covered with a large, black cauldron and several vials with gooey substances.

"It's my brother," James told her, "he's a bit loony, tries to make potions and stuff."

She nodded, knowingly. "My brother is insane, too". Not in the same way, but he needn't know that.

He grinned at her, making her stomach flip. "Brothers always are – my mom has five, and they're all barking. Wicked, but completely crazy!"

She giggled at the enthusiasm with which he said the words. "She has five brothers?" she asked in awe.

"She used to have six-" six?! "-but Uncle Fred died during the la- that is to say, in an accident. That was a long time ago, though, and none of us cousins have actually met him, 'part from Teddy, but he was just a baby so he doesn't really remember. Mom said he looked just like Uncle George, only he still had an ear. They were identical twins, you see."

"I wish I had an identical twin!" Rose told him eagerly. "It would be so cool! Jack and I don't look anything alike."

At the thought of her brother, her happiness completely drained. He apparently noticed, and turn to fix the tea. She was thankful that he looked away and a lone tear fell down her cheek. She furiously swept it away and soon she was handed the tea in a large cup with an unfamiliar logo on.

"Thanks."

They sat in silence for a while, but it was comfortable, not awkward. Or perhaps that was her fatigue speaking and she realized that she should probably say something, in case he thought the silence was awkward.

"I like your house." At the words she promptly blushed. She hadn't meant to say that aloud. Once she had started, though, she might as well continue. "It's very homey and cosy."

To her immense relief, he didn't seem to mind. "I like it too," he told her and she smiled at him.

Silence fell once again but before it could become awkward Mr Potter entered the kitchen with a woman that looked like an older female version of James. She looked angry, eyes burning, and Rose's heartbeat sped up. They were going to throw her out, she just knew it, and then she would have nowhere to go!

Soon, however, the woman smiled kindly at her. "It's nice to meet you, Rose," she said with a smile- "I'm Harry's wife, Ginny."

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs Potter," Rose mumbled quietly. She didn't want to further upset the woman, afraid that she still was very willing to throw her out.

"You can call me Ginny, dear," the woman said kindly. "Your parents wanted you to stay here for a while, to get to know us."

That didn't make any sense. She had never heard of these people before, why would she stay here of all places?

"Why did they want me to get to know you?"

The woman didn't answer immediately but turned to her son. "James," she said, sickly sweetly. "why don't you go for a run now?"

Rose could clearly see that James definitely didn't not want to go for a run right then, but he didn't have much of a choice as his mother glared at him and so he left the kitchen. Once he was gone, she was left alone with the two adults. They scared her a little – there was something about them that just oozed powerful. Her dad had always said that she shouldn't talk to strangers, but her dad had also sent her here and said that she should give the letter to Mr Potter so then she had to talk to him, didn't she? And as powerful as Mr and Mrs Potter seemed to be, they also treated her very kindly and she thought that they were very nice. Not as nice as the boy, though.

"Rose," the man, Harry, started to say, but then he didn't say anything else and she was left awkwardly staring at him. Finally his wife continued for him.

"Rose, the letter from your father…" the woman (Ginny?) glanced at Harry, who nodded, "anyway, he wants you to get to know us, as I said, so you're going to stay here for a while."

She didn't understand. She didn't know these people! If it was her cousins, or grandparents, then she could understand why her parents would want her to get to know them better, but before yesterday she had never heard of the Potters and now her dad wanted her to life with them? Why couldn't she stay at home? It was just because of that letter, she knew, that awful letter written with green ink. As soon as he caught sight of it, her father had told her to pack her bag and promptly put her on the train to this strange town, with the two letters and a note with the address. Her heart ached as she remembered his last words to her, right before she boarded the train.

"Rose, I want you to go there… don't talk to your brother or mother! Leave them alone and… don't do any freaky stuff on the train, just... leave everyone alone!"

She had almost forgotten where she was when Ginny spoke up again. "We're going to put an extra bed in Lily's room – you girls are the same age and I'm sure you'll like each other!"

As if hearing her name, a girl that had to be Lily stepped into the kitchen, dressed in oversized blue pyjamas and stretching as she yawned loudly. She was the girl from the pictures in the entre and while James and Ginny looked very much alike, the girl was a clone of her mother. Come to think of it, she looked very much like James, too, but not nearly as cute, Rose thought.

"Morning mom, dad, Ja-? Who are you?"

The girl that was quite possibly called Lily stopped in the doorway, crossed her arms and raised one eye-brow.

"This is Rose, your second cousin."

Rose quickly moved her gaze from the girl to the man. "What?" she asked, completely forgetting how her mom always reprimanded her for saying "what" instead of "sorry" or "pardon". "We're related?"

"He didn't tell you?" Harry asked her and something flashed by his eyes, but it was too fast for her to determine. "Dudley and I are cousins, or mothers were sisters. In fact, you actually look just like my mom did."

She did? She just stared at him. How come her dad had never told her about the Potters? They seemed very nice to her, funny and interesting… maybe that was her answer. Her parents and her dad in particular, never seemed to like the same things as she did. Like that one time at the zoo. She had been in complete awe of the boa constrictor, but her father had dragged her from there and yelled at her for over an hour.

"Lils," Ginny said, "Rose is going to stay in your room for a while, do you mind showing her? We'll just take out the bed that Rose normally uses… this is going to be complicated, with the names!" She smiled warmly at Rose. "You see, the kids' other cousin is also called Rose."

Lily rolled her eyes at her mother and then turned around. When Rose didn't immediately follow, she turned around with an irritated look. "Are you coming, or what?"

And so Rose left the kitchen and went back through the living room. The stairs creaked slightly as they walked them, unlike the quiet staircase in Rose's own home. They walked through a large hallway with various strange objects and entered through a white door at the end. Large, blue letters stated that the room belonged to Lily and that whoever entered without permission would suffer her wrath. A little nervously, Rose followed the girl.

"Rose just left yesterday, they're on vacation in France. We'll have to change the sheets, unless you want to use the same as she did. I wouldn't do that, 'cause Rose always farts in her sleep. It's gross. That's why she has her own bed and can't sleep in mine. Mom forced me to let her do that when we were kids. Yikes! It's gross enough to be in the same room."

She said everything very quickly and gestured at a neatly made bed by the closet. A larger bed stood on the other side of the large window. There was a desk in the room, but it was so full of things that Rose couldn't tell which colour the tree underneath was. Some of the objects she recognised, but other things were incredibly strange, like the stick that lay on two large brown books. She probably pretended to be a witch or something, Rose guessed, or perhaps it was a strange pen. She definitely seemed like that silly type of girl.

No matter if she was silly Rose didn't particularly like the girl. She was too loud and too messy. Her own room, Rose thought with a sad twinge, was always very neat and cleaned up. To think that she would have to live in this mess for who knows how long - as Lily had said: yikes!

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! I was so happy with the response and hope that you all enjoy this chapter as well. This is probably the longest chapter I've ever written. Not that that's saying much, but, well, I'm proud! Never the less, I actually cut a scene out and it's going to have to be a part of next chapter instead, because this chapter is already awfully long and if I was going to wait until I had finished that scene it would probably take another few weeks to publish, as I'm going away.

About the owl and not a ministry official coming to Rose with her letter – I figured that with a great aunt and father's cousin that are both magical, she might not actually count as a muggleborn but rather as some sort of strange half blood, especially since Dudley grew up with Harry and so Rose's dad actually knows about magic.

Please leave a review, either with your own opinions or answering my questions; Is Dudley realistic? What do you think about Rose's and Lily's relationship? And what do you think will happen between James and Rose?