Harry Potter 1. A Strange Girl

_Summary:_ An early morning in July James Sirius Potter opens the door to reveal a girl he has never met before. Abandoned by her family, Rose Dursley is left on the front step of the Potter family, and tries to deal with the fact that she might not be a freak, but rather… magical?

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**Chapter 1 – A Strange Girl**

Despite the persistent rain the last few weeks, July 26th dawned with bright sunlight and summer warmth. Inside of the white brick house in Godric's Hollow, the family slowly woke up. First up, most like all mornings, was the oldest boy. His red hair was still messy with sleep and as he sat up in his bed he yawned loudly. His bedroom was located on the entrance floor and so he could be as loud as he wished, the rest of the family wouldn't take notice. Besides, after that one time he blew up his toilet – purely by mistake, of course, despite what everyone thought – his mom had put a silencing spell on his room to avoid from being awakened in such a violent manner.

Not bothering with breakfast as he didn't want to get side cramps, the scrawny teenage boy just took the time to put on a t-shirts and shorts before he went for the door. He had always been a morning person and in order to make use of the early hours when he seemed to be the only person awake in the whole town, he usually took a run. Besides, he really needed to stay fitted if he wanted to keep his spot on the Gryffindor quidditch team. James Potter was chaser, and a marvellous one at that, something both he and his family were very proud of.

The hall by the front door was as messy as always. The two brothers had been home for nearly a month now and while their younger sister was fully capable of making a mess, she was nowhere near as messy as James and Albus, especially put together. Sleepily throwing away a pair of his mother's ballerina, James located his own trainers in the pile of shoes. They had been white when he bought them, but now they were a brown grey colour and one of the shoe laces had come apart. He supposed he could have fixed it while still at school, or asked one of his parents to do it once he came home, but he always forgot, and besides they worked just as well with only one and a half shoelace.

The door didn't creak as he opened it, which was enough to startle him. Up until this summer, this door had been very noisy to open, but apparently his parents had finally fixed it and it still surprised him every time he opened it. Not that he minded – it made it a lot easier to sneak back in without being noticed. However, the non-creaky door did not nearly startle him as much as the girl that was standing on his front step did. He took a step back, almost falling over as he stumbled on the shoe pile and just barely managing to keep his footing.

"Sorry!" the girl frantically whispered. She was panicked, he could tell by her wide eyes and slightly trembling hands.

Once he regained his balance, James opened the door fully to reveal the girl completely. She looked eerily familiar and for a second he couldn't place her, but then he smiled a little. Although the red hair wasn't the same colour, but slightly darker, the girl could be a copy of his dead grandmother, Lily Evans. She even had the same eyes as James's brother and dad, emerald green and startling, but more beautiful on the young girl than on either his awkward teenage brother or his going-on-bald dad. When it didn't look as if she was about to explain herself, he grinned his trademark smile at her.

"Can I help you?"

She swallowed and blinked and for a second James wondered if she was mute, despite her earlier apology, but then she spoke up. Her voice was bright, very much like his younger sister's', and combined with her oddly bright eyes he had a feeling that she was about to start crying.

"Sorry," she repeated. "I'm looking for-" she read of a paper in her hand that James hadn't noticed earlier "-Mr Harry Potter?"

It was a question more than an answer, really, but James wasn't picky. However, he didn't like the way this was going. It wasn't like it was the first time a stranger turned up on their porch asking for his father, or mother for that matter. More than twenty years after the end of the second wizarding war, and ten since the end of his mom's quidditch career, both his parents were still regarded as heroes and were often asked for autographs or photos, even at their own home.

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

The girl swallowed again. "Sorry," she said once more, and James resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I… dad said to go here. He said to give Mr Potter these letters."

Her voice almost broke and her hand was still trembling as she held it out, two letters in it. James couldn't help but noticed that her skin was as hopelessly freckled as his own, when he stretched out to grab them. The upper envelope was addressed to "_Harry"_, the handwriting messy and unfamiliar. It was the fact that the letter was addressed to his father by first name that made James suspect that maybe the girl wasn't after autographs, after all, and so smiled, if a little awkwardly, at the girl.

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

His mother would be proud of the polite tone he used, he idly though. The door was opened wide for the girl to step in through, but she went down back the stairs. Just as James was about to ask why she was leaving, he noticed the trunk by the foot of the stairs. She struggled to lift it up, but it was apparently way to heavy and as her face grew steadily redder – both from humiliation and effort, he suspected – he heaved it up and carried it inside, while the girl thanked him profusely.

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

He supposed he probably should have offered her to sit down, but as he had no clue whether she was a witch or a muggle, he didn't dare let her inside any room but the hallway where she was standing. He knew that Albus still hadn't taken away the cauldron from the kitchen table, despite his mom's angry scolding, and Lily always left her play broomstick all over the place. Come to think of it, he usually did that too.

On top of all of that, which was suspicious enough for a muggle, the fact remained that the house wasn't exactly unmagical, either. While it didn't look overly big from the outside, it was a lot bigger once you came inside and had a much larger garden than any of the other houses in the muggle neighbourhood. The upper floor was a bigger than it should be, as well, leaving lot of space for several odd and not-so-odd rooms. Passing the white door that led to his brother's room – snorting at the loud snores he could hear through it – he entered the second door to the left, where he could find his parents' shared bedroom.

Unsurprisingly, both of them were still asleep. It was a mystery to everyone who knew Ginny and Harry Potter how they could have given birth to a morning person like James himself. When he woke up at seven in the morning, it was still several hours left till the next person got up, which was usually Lily, or in some cases, Harry. Ginny and Albus could sleep through a bombing, the rest of them used to laugh.

"Dad!" James said urgently, shaking his dad's sleeping body.

"Go 'way!" the grown man said, turning around in his bed to hide behind the quilt.

"Dad!" James repeated promptly took the quilt from his father, grinning at the frown that took place on the familiar face. Then the eyes opened and brown eyes met green.

"James, what did you blow up this time?" Harry wondered irritably as he stretched and started to get up.

"Nothing!" the boy said, "Why would you ask that?" His dad didn't even bother to reply to that. "I was going for a run, but there was some girl outside asking for you."

That got his father out of bed. "A girl?"

James nodded. "Yep, she said her dad had told her to give you these letters."

He handed the two envelopes to his father. While James hadn't recognised the hand writing at all, his dad's face drained from colour. He mumbled something that James couldn't quite make out, and before the boy could properly react Harry had put on a Weasley sweater and was going down the stairs. Curious as always, James hurried after him. However, he didn't have time to ask for further information before they reached the little girl. She hadn't even sat down and when she looked up to meet eyes with Harry, she looked even more nervous than she had, meeting James. The adult gasped at the sight of her, and James guessed he recognised her looks even faster than he had. Being used to surprises, though, Harry quickly recovered.

"Mr Potter?" the girl asked quietly.

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

Apparently the girl hadn't expected him to know his name, because her eyes widened before she gave him a quick nod. James noted that this girl actually was quite similar to his cousin Rose and thought it to be a bit strange that they not only looked alike, but also had the same name.

"I hoped this day wouldn't come," Harry said absentmindedly, and both children 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."

James was about to protest, seeing as he hadn't had a chance to run yet, but his dad gave him a very serious look and so he didn't say anything about it.

"Sure," he agreed instead. "If you want to?"

The girl nodded again. "That'd be very nice," she said, very quietly. "If you don't mind?"

And she looked so nervous that suddenly James didn't mind at all. He still had no clue what was going on, but something told him that neither did the girl, and he didn't want to make her more upset than she already was.

"'course not!" he told her with a smile, and to his surprise she actually smiled back, if a bit weakly. "This way…"

He could hear his dad go back up the stairs as he lead the girl through their living room – luckily empty of typical wizard things – to the kitchen. Much like he had suspected, Albus's cauldron still stood on the table, along with his potions book. The girl stared – muggle then – and James scanned his mind for an excuse.

"It's my brother," he finally said, "he's a bit loony, tries to make potions and stuff."

The girl nodded. "My brother is insane, too".

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

That actually brought out a giggle of the little girl. "She has five brothers?" she asked, wonder in her wide eyes.

"She used to have 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."

Rose seemed to marvel at his words. "I wish I had an identical twin!" she said eagerly. "It would be so cool! Jack and I don't look anything alike."

Her face sobered when she mentioned who James thought must be her brother. Desperate to get her in a happier mood, he asked her what she'd like on her sandwich, hoping that she wouldn't ask for something muggley that he didn't know about. Luckily, she seemed very content with just cheese, so he made one for her and one for himself while the tea water boiled on the stove.

"Thanks," Rose said as he handed her a steaming cup of tea.

The cup was one of the few unmagical ones that he could find. It did have the Holyhead Harpies logo on it, but he didn't think that she wouldn't notice that. For a moment they just sat there in silence, each staring into their tea. Soon, though, Rose hesitantly spoke up.

"I like your house," she said and promptly blushed, but continued anyway, much to James's amusement. "It's very homey and cosy."

"I like it too," he told her and got a smile in reward.

Just as James started to wonder where they had gone, and whether his dad had fallen back asleep, both his parents entered the kitchen. Neither looked very happy, Ginny going on angry, but when Rose turned around to look at them, they both smiled at her. The smiles seemed genuine, too, and then both of the adults took a cup of tea each and sat down around the table as well.

"It's nice to meet you, Rose," James's mom said with a smile, although he could still sense her anger. "I'm Harry's wife, Ginny."

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs Potter," Rose mumbled quietly.

"You can call me Ginny, dear," the woman said to the girl in a manner that reminded James of his grandmother. "Your parents wanted you to stay here for a while, to get to know us."

The last part was said slightly sarcastically, but judging from Rose's expression she didn't catch up on that.

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

James, too, very much wanted to know that, but right before his parents answered they turned to him. "James, dear," his mother said, "why don't you go for a run now?"

He almost groaned in frustration, but sensed that now wasn't the time to pry for information. Besides, if Rose was going to stay there for a while, he would probably find out, sooner or later. If he didn't find anything out, he would have to "borrow" some extendable ears from Uncle George. Now, however, he left his parents and the girl alone in the kitchen, and in the matter of seconds he was out the house, taking his usual route.

Normally, when James took a run, it would be much earlier in the morning and most of the times he didn't meet a soul, especially not during the weekend. Seeing as it was now later than usual he passed no less than three other runners, as well as two people walking their dogs. He didn't know anyone he passed, but still sent them the customary I-know-what-pain-you're-going-through-lucky-the-we ather-is-nice-though smile and nod, and everyone he met returned them with the same smile and nod.

Apart from the people, he didn't really pass anything interesting. His route started by their house, naturally, and then went through the neighbourhood, past the graveyard and past a big red brick building where he had once attended muggle school, until his parents got tired of covering up for the magic he performed there and put him in a home schooling group with most of his cousins. The same went for Albus, not because he couldn't behave but because he didn't want to learn about "silly things like adding and subtrahacting!" When Lily got old enough they didn't even bother to enrol her but after a year of school with her cousins, the little girl told her parents very seriously that she would either go to the muggle school or no school at all. Although she was very happy to soon be starting Hogwarts, she was sad to leave all her muggle friends behind and tried to spend as much time as possible with them before she left on the first of September.

After the school he turned left and ended up running around the lake where they always swam during the summers, and ice skated during the Christmas breaks. The lake wasn't very big, but the trail around it went up and down and never failed to make James tired. Usually the last part of his route, the one that went past a very tiny mall and then home again, would take much longer than the first part, mainly because he was always so exhausted. This time, when he ran past the mall, he could barely breathe due to cramps in his side. He knew that he shouldn't have eaten anything before he went and silently cursed his father for making him.

The house was still quiet when he came inside again, and he guessed that both his siblings were probably still asleep. Just as he was about to go take a shower he noticed that right there, on the bureau by the door, lay a paper with text on it. Never one to miss a chance, he picked it up.

_Harry_, it read, and James realized that it must be the letter that Rose had brought with her when she came.

_I'm sorry about this, but I couldn't turn to anyone else. I know that you don't like me very much, and I don't like you either, but I can't handle this anymore! She's just like you, she's a freak! We tried to get it out of her, her mother and me, but it didn't work. We got the letter yesterday, the same letter that you got before that giant showed up and I knew then that she can't be my daughter. If you don't want to take her, send her away, but I can't keep her. She's a freak, she'll ruin our family! I don't want her to infect Jack, he's nothing like her but I don't want him to be either._

_Dudley_

For a moment, James just stared at the letters, unable to comprehend what he had just read. He had never heard of a Dudley, and had no clue how this guy thought he could call his dad and little Rose freaks! As far as James knew, they were both very nice! Then he saw the second envelope, the one he hadn't previously looked at. It had a very familiar, emerald crest on it, and with neat letters it read:

_Rose Dursley  
Pink bedroom  
19 Vicar Lane  
Bradford_

It was a Hogwarts letter, he realise with a jolt in his stomach. That could only mean one thing: Rose was a witch.

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This is going to be a multi-chaptered story, provided that there actually is some interest to read it. Please leave a review and let me know what you think! Are the characters realistic? What do you think about Rose? (And yes, I know that it's silly to name her the same thing as Ron's and Hermione's daughter, but by the time I realised that she is also called that my Rose had already developed and I didn't want to change her name.) Anything about the story that you particularly like or dislike? Let me know!

**Next chapter:** A very unhappy reunion, the wonders of magic and the story of an interesting school.


	2. A Lonely Girl

_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!

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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?


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Harry Potter, Family, Friendship