Verity did not get very far after she disappeared through the large doors of Kings Cross Station. Immediately she became lost in the bustling crowd of commuters. She stumbled through the chaos, having no idea where to go or what to look for. After five minutes, fatigued and defeated, she slumped against an empty trolley. She closed her eyes and imagined herself back at home, lying in her bed.

Sure, she was nervous about going to Hogwarts, but not as much as her father thought that she was. He thought that she was a stupid little girl who was shy around others. However, she was never as shy as he thought that she was. She had only distanced herself from the half brained muggles in her school for reasons that she had never confessed to her father. They had always poked fun at her “eccentric” parents and the weird things that always seemed to happen when she was around. She hoped that at this school, distancing herself from the rest of the world would not be necessary. She just wanted a few friends, a handful of good grades, and to be generally liked and accepted by the faculty and students. She hoped that that would not be too much to ask for.

There was just one other thing she was worried about. The S word. No, not the S*** word. The S******** word. SLYTHERIN. Her whole family had been in the House in their Hogwarts days, and she did not want to disappoint anyone, but she knew it was not the one for her. She had heard so many stories of the oh-so-high–and-mighty Slytherins that appeared to “rule the school.” Those stories, despite how amazing and glorious the actions of the Slytherin were, always ended up sounding conceited when they entered Verity’s ears. And if there was one thing that she did not want to be, it was a braggart. Slytherins also sounded like bullies, and Verity was certainly not one of those, either. Her father was constantly talking about his “glory days” at the school. These anecdotes usually encompassed giving someone a beating with Lucius Malfoy, who had once been a close acquaintance of his. Verity knew that her father was not a typical Slytherin, but she did not want to follow in his footsteps. She knew that she did not belong with a group of bragging idiots.

“Hey, are you actually going to use that trolley, or are you just going to use it as your own personal lounge for the rest of the day?”

Verity looked up, blushing, to see a tall boy with flaming red hair towering over her. His nose had a sprinkling of freckles and his mouth was split into a wide, mocking grin. He looked to be about her own age, wearing an awkward red sweater that clashed horribly with his bright hair. She quickly jumped up.

“What business is it of yours?” She inquired, sweeping her hair out of her eyes as she haphazardly grabbed for the handle of her trunk. Who was this boy and what the heck did he want?

“Oh, actually, it’s no business of mine at all.” His grin grew impossibly bigger.
Verity opened her mouth to give him a smart response when she was startled by a yell from within the crowd: “LOOKOUT! I GOT ONE FRED! COMING THROUGH!”

She turned around to see a boy, identical to the red-headed one before her, barreling through the crowded station pushing a silver trolley as fast as his lanky legs could carry him. The boy suddenly realized that he was about to hit a particularly elderly woman in a bright purple dress and attempted to stop the trolley short. In the process, however, the boy knocked over several bags, a trunk, and a particularly nasty-looking Tabby-cat’s cage.

The cage’s bolts burst as it hit the ground, flinging the Tabby through the air and onto the now stationary boy, who was lying, spread-eagled, on the ground next to his cart.

“Fred! FRED!” He yelled as he rolled around on the ground, fighting the cat. The boy standing next to Verity looked at her sheepishly.

“Sorry ‘bout him. Sometimes he’s a right pain in the a***.”

The boy on the floor, still trying to detach himself from the obese cat, called out, “You’re a pain in the a***, Fred! Now get-this-thing-off-me!”

The boy, whose name was apparently Fred, walked over to remove the cat from his brother’s red sweater. Fred handed the cat back to its disgruntled owner, and helped his brother up.

The two were identical to the last freckle, except for the claw and scratch marks on the other twin’s face.

“Well, that was quite an event.” Said the scratched up brother, dusting off his clothes.

“Look at your face! Mum’s going to have a right old fit when she sees you!” Fred yelled at his brother, smacking him jokingly behind the head.

The boy rubbed at his cuts, a smile playing across his face. “Well if you’d been a little bit faster in the cat-removal process, maybe this could have been avoided!”

“It’s not my fault you ran into that old muggle’s rubbish!”

“It’s not my fault I’m related to such a git of a cat-tamer!”
They grinned in unison and wheeled around to stare pointedly at Verity.

“He’s Fred.” Said the scratched up one, pointing at the healthy-looking brother.

“He’s George,” Said Fred, pointing towards scratched-up George, who bowed.
“And in case you haven’t guessed, I’m the hotter twin.”

Verity giggled as George glared at Fred.

“In what world are you hot?”

“In what world are you clever?” Fred responded, mimicking George’s sarcastic tone.

Verity giggled again as George pulled his face into a ridiculously exaggerated pout. Verity could tell that they weren’t really fighting, just entertaining her. She flashed a tiny smile from behind her hands and then leaned closer to them to whisper, “You’re both…wizards…right?” Verity tensed, waiting to be called crazy by these two very funny, very cute, boys. She could have sworn that she had heard them use the word muggle.

Fred glanced at George out of the corner of his eye, and George glanced back, still rubbing absent-mindedly at a cut with his thumb.

“Err…”

“It’s okay,” Verity whispered, gaining some confidence at seeing that she was not the only nervous one about going to school, “I’m a witch…You’re going to Hogwarts, right?”

“Errrrr……” Fred pointed behind her, and she whirled to be staring face-to-face with a very angry looking, reddish-brown-haired woman.

“Fred! George! Where have you been? I’ve been searching for you both for the past ten minutes! I told you to get a trolley! I honestly didn’t think you could mess up such a simple task as that.”

Fred smiled weakly, and George stepped forward.
“But we were getting a trolley, mum! I was just asking, er-”
“Verity.” Verity said, causing the twins’ mother to notice her for the first time.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, dear, were Fred and George bothering you?” The woman looked down sternly at her sons. “I apologize. They’re under the impression that they’re the best pranksters the world has ever known, and they can’t resist a good victim to try out their ‘pranking genius’ on. I hope they didn’t cause you any trouble.” She smiled warmly as the boys blushed identically.
“No, Mum! We were just asking Verity if she was using her trolley. We didn’t do anything wrong!” George tried to persuade his mother.
“Why, George! What has happened to your face!?” His mother asked.
“He’s just naturally ugly.” Fred whispered under his breath. George shot him a venomous glance that conveyed his message perfectly; I’ll get you back for that later.
Fred and George’s mother immediately began fussing over George, pulling from her handbag a tube of healing cream and a long, thin, twig like stick of wood, about 13 inches long…
“You are wizards!” Verity whispered to the family.
“Yes, dear. And you? Will this be your first year at Hogwarts?” she smiled as she tried to rub the sunscreen-like cream into George’s face with her wand.
“Yes, it will be.” Verity nodded happily.
“I’m Molly Weasley, and it seems that you’ve already met two of my sons, Fred and George. It’s to be their first year at Hogwarts as well.” Fred smirked as his mother put the cream and her wand away, leaving George’s face with a series of different colored smears of cream and a frown.
Mrs. Weasley looked down at the star-spangled watch on her wrist.
“It’s nearly time! The train will be leaving in 15 minutes! Oh, dear, we must be going!”
She hurriedly pulled out two bright tickets from her robe with a flourish.
“Here’s for you-Fred-and George…” She distributed the tickets hurriedly to both of her sons.
“I’ll meet you two at the platform-I must go talk to Percy about his problem! It was wonderful to meet you, Verity, dear! I hope you have a wonderful year at Hogwarts!” And with that, she was off, bustling through the crowds of grumpy Englanders.
Verity turned to Fred and George.
“Well, that seemed to go better than expected.” She smirked.
“Yeah, if you like being a walking rainbow! I should just wear a sign that says, ‘Hello world, Hex me now!’” George angrily rubbed the multi-colored healing cream off his freckled face.
“Aww, come on. I think it looks cute. Maybe it’ll help you to get girls.” Fred laughed as George aimed a kick at his leg, catching the side of Verity’s trunk with his trainer instead.
“Come off it! We’d better go, or we’ll be late!” George frowned, hopping on one foot.
They turned to leave. Then, remembering Verity, added in unison, “Want to sit with us on the train?”
“Sure!” Verity called after them as they left to gather their trunks. Several minutes later, they returned, pulling two very battered trunks behind them. Verity looked at her own new trunk and attempted to place it onto the trolley. However, it was simply too heavy for her tiny, slim arms, and she staggered and fell with the weight. Instantly, the twins were at her side.
“You alright?” George asked her, as he and Fred removed the trunk and threw it onto the trolley with a soft thud.
“Yeah….I’m fine…” Verity looked at the large bruise blossoming on her arm.
“Hey George, got any more of that rainbow cream?” She said sarcastically, smiling at him. Fred began to laugh hysterically.
George smiled wryly and rubbed his finger across his forehead. “As a matter of fact…” He whipped the remainder of the cream on her arm. “There. It looks good on you.” He grinned.
Fred and George snagged two trolleys and walked alongside Verity. Together they laughed and smiled as they walked towards platform nine and three quarters and into the unknown.



As the trio made their way to the platform and disappeared into the crowd, a dripping wet figure stepped through the threshold of the station’s entrance. Looking round nervously for his daughter, flashing tie now tactfully hidden beneath his jacket was Verity’s forgotten father. Clutching to her Hogwarts train ticket as if it were he were a drowning man and it was a lifeline, he stepped smiled sadly as he watched the figure of his daughter slowly recede into the haze of the crowd. She was only 11, and he was already losing her.