A well-pressed daisy

“Now Ginny, don’t gawk. He’s a boy, not a kneazel in a shop.” Molly scolded lightly, pulling Ginny back to stand away from the train. She didn’t like to scold, not when poor Gin faced most of a year just with her, but you couldn’t go about gawking at people like that.

And he looked so much like Lily, right down to that sweet smile of hers, that her heart hurt for a moment. They’d been pregnant together, she and Lily and Alice, so they’d spent many long hours in the Burrow’s sitting room, waiting together. One couldn’t very well go on raids seven months gone. She found herself glad Lily lived on in Harry.

She could hold onto that.

“Mind if I sit here…everywhere else is full?”

Ron stumbled into the compartment as Fred poked him sharply in the back. They wanted to get Ron settled and be off to see Lee’s tarantula. Much more interesting than ickle firsties.

“Er, sure?” The red headed boy shifted a bit as if to get further out of the way.

“Brilliant! I’m Ron. Ron Weasley.” At least you could count on Ron to introduce himself.

“I’m Harry. Harry Potter.” The surname came at nearly a whisper.

“Budge up, Fred! Blimey he looks like his mum!” George exclaimed from behind him, crowding in and shutting the door.

“Is that bad? Everyone keeps…” He pressed his lips together as if afraid he’d said too much already.

“Course not!” Ron butted in. “It’s only everyone thought you’d look like your dad, you know.”

“Some blond prat was going on about it, nearly ran into me in the corridor.” George explained the shoving. “You’re the talk of the train.”

Harry groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “I didn’t even know about magic until Hagrid knocked the door in!”

“Hagrid knocked the…” Fred started.

“Door in?” George finished.

“My relatives don’t much like magic? Or anything that isn’t normal? My uncle sells drills.” The plaintive look on the kid’s face tugged at Fred’s heartstrings as an idea formed. He hadn’t the foggiest what a drill was, but he assumed it was something normal for Muggles.