Siren Call

Chapter Five

*Selenity's P.O.V*

I stumbled on my feet as my surroundings came into focus. I was standing in the middle of a large living room. The furniture looked worn and overstuffed, but turned out to be exceedingly comfortable when I collapsed on a nearby couch. 

"There, there, dear. The first time apparating always takes it out of you. Why, the first time I tried, I was out for three hours!"

I looked up and saw Mrs. Weasley smiling kindly down at me. I tried to smile back, but it came out as a weak grimace. 

Chuckling, she gestured for me to follow and walked into the kitchen. I heard a few voices, a vague shout, then dead silence as Mrs. Weasley asked, "Tell me what?" in a calmly sinister voice. 

I peeked around her and saw five redheads and a raven-black haired boy shuffling nervously under her gaze. No one noticed me as they were being scolded for whatever they had done, and I took a chance to study them. 

Mrs. Weasley had told me enough of her family for me to be able to tell them apart. The youngest redheaded boy was glancing back and forth between his mother and twin brothers, trying in vain to hide a large grin. He was tall and gangly, but didn't appear ti be any older than I. Sifting through the conversations with Mrs. Weasely at Diagon Alley, I deemed him Ron and moved onto the twins. 

Fred and George were trying desperately to get out of trouble; apparently, they had let some kind of candy get into the hands of a Muggle (whatever that was), and the outcome had not been pretty. I bit back a giggle at the sight of the identical expressions of nevousness and guilt on their identical faces. 

Mr. Weasley, a tall, thin, balding man, stood there nervously, wringing his hands as his eyes darted everywhere but his wife's face. 

I noticed the other two men sitting at the table briefly: one wore his long hair pulled back in a ponytail, an earring with a fang dangling from it, and was dressed in clothes that would have best suited someone attending a rock concert. I had a feeling that if I tried to talk to him, I would end up blushing and stammering like crazy. Actually, that would probably have happened with the other man as well. He was somewhat  intimidating, despite the good-natured grin he wore as he watched the twins try to defend themselves. He was short and stocky, with tan skin that, on closer inspection, was revealed to be multiple freckles. 

But the one who caught my attention was the raven haired boy who observed with a would-be innocent air save the grin threatening to split his face. Black hair stood up at odd angles on his head, looking as though he had just gotten out of a car riding with the window down at 70 MPH. His strikingly vivid emerald green eyes twinkled in amusement and happiness, and he looked about the room with undeniable love for its occupants. 

Suddenly, Mr. Weasley coughed slightly. "So Molly, is that Selenity there behind you?"

Everyone turned to look at me, looks of relief crossing most faces briefly. Mine heated up and I looked down at the floor. 

Mrs. Weasley paused, momentarily forgetting the reason for her tirade as she beamed at me. "Yes, she is. We just got back from Diagon Alley with all her school things. We bought her a new wand, robes, broom, everything!"

George and Fred, taking advantage of their mother's distraction, loped up to me and stood on either side of me, throwing their arms around my shoulders. 

"I'm Fred," one said. "The less handsome one over there is George."

"We," the other one intoned, "are the tour guides for new students at Hogwarts, and would be happy to show you around anytime." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

"Might I suggest a quick trip--" began Fred

"--up to our room?" finished George. 

They both winked roguishly, and my face flamed more until their mother pried them off. 

"Now that you've met Gred and Forge, I suppose I can introduce myself. I'm Arthur Weasley," the tall man with the least amount of hair said with a kind smile. "These are some of my sons, Ron, Charlie, Bill, and, of course, the twins."

All the redheads nodded and smiled. The black haired boy stepped up. "Hi. My name's Harry. Harry Potter."

Everyone in the kitchen seemed to hold their breath, looking at me pensively. Shrugging it off, I smiled back at the James Bond reference and replied, "Selenity Castle. It's nice to meet you."

There was a collective sigh of relief, and they began shuffling around the kitchen, voices overlapping noisily. I found myself jostled out the door and back in the living room. Laughing, I turned and nearly ran into two other girls. 

"Oh, sorry!! Hey! You must be Selenity! I'm Hermione Granger, I'll be in your year." The bushy haired, somewhat buck-toothed girl in front of me stuck her hand out with a large smile. 

Grinning, I shook her hand and nodded. I glanced at the other girl, a redhead of about thirteen. She had a smattering of light freckles across her nose, and her blue eyes crinkled as she smiled. 

"I'm Ginny."

"So what's going on in there?"

I shrugged, completely lost. "Mrs. Weasley's getting onto the twins for something to do with a wizard weeze, and everybody else is kinda stuck."

Hermione frowned slightly and said, "Oh dear..." before stepping into the kitchen. "Hey Ron, Harry! Dontcha think you should show Harry where his room is, Ron?"

"He knows where he's sleeping," came the reply, "in my room, same as last--"

"We can all go."

"Oh, yeah, we'll come too!" another voice said. 

"You two stay right there!!" snarled Mrs. Weasley. 

Hermione stumbled out of the kitchen with Ron and Harry in tow. They made their way to the stairs, and Hermione turned back, saying, "You guys coming?"

As we walked up the stairs, Percy stuck his head out and complained at us before Ron shut him up. Up in Ron's room, a zooming ball of brown descended upon us, trilling excessively. 

"Pig, would you-- Stop flyi-- SHUT UP, PIG!" Ron yelled, obviously annoyed at the thing. It slowed down and came to a stop on Ron's shoulder. 'Pig' turned out to be a tiny brown owl, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand.

"Fred and George are in here with us, Harry, 'cause Charlie and Bill have their room."

"Er--why are you calling that thing Pig?" Harry asked, bemused. 

"Because he's being stupid," Ginny replied with a glare directed at her brother. "His proper name is Pigwidgeon."

Ron snorted. "And that's not a stupid name at all." He turned back to Harry. "Ginny named him, reckoned it was sweet. Now he won't come to anything else, so I shortened it to Pig."

He glowered at the thing, but his fondness for the hyperactive animal showed through anyway. 

"What about your familiar?"

It took me a second to realize the question was directed at me. "My what? Oh! This is Callisthene; she's an Avian Metamorph." I gestured to the all-but-forgotten black bird still perched comfortably on my shoulder. 

Hermione gasped and stared at the bird in awe. "I've read about those! They're extremely rare and rarely bond with witches or wizards. Oh, I'm so jealous!" she remarked playfully, reaching a tentative hand toward the bird. Callisthene just looked at her blankly before preening her feathers. 

I shrugged apologetically at her. "Sorry, she's a bit standoffish."

"Um, what does it do?" Ron asked. 

"Honestly, Ron! Don't you ever read anything?"

Ron snorted. "Why should I, when I have you to tell me all about it?"

Speaking quickly to save Ron from his unwitting blunder, I explained, "Well, the lady at the shop told me that she could turn into any type of bird. I suspect there are limits to what she can morph into, but the lady didn't go into great detail." I gazed thoughtfully at the bird, who stared back at me with intense silver eyes before blinking and becoming the black-feathered version of Pigwidgeon. 

Ginny and Hermione gasped and squealed, crowding in to touch her. Callisthene hooted indignantly before flitting off, landing precariously on Pigwidgeon's cage. 

I giggled silently and turned back to face the others. Ron was looking at me with a thoughtful expression. Before I could ask him about it, he blurted out, "You talk funny."

My eyes widened slightly and a startled laugh slipped out. Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother and Hermione elbowed him in the rib, chiding his tactlessness. Pretty soon, the three were off on another planet: the two girls surrounding him and pointing out his every flaw, poor Ron stuck in the middle and looking around beseechingly for help. 

Chuckling, I glanced at Harry, who had drifted close to me at some point in the argument. 

"Are they always like this?" I gestured vaguely to the trio. 

He grinned. "Nah, Ron's usually less tactful."

We shared a laugh and started chatting. 

"So where are you from? As Ron so delicately pointed out, you lack the defining British accent of an Englander," Harry inquired. 

I smiled. "I live near the very uttermost outskirts of New York, in the wonderful U.S.A. We live basically in the middle of nowhere, in a town with a population of about 2,500."

"Ahh, that explains the accent," he replied, grinning. 

"Excuse me," I said, trying to sound affronted. "You're the ones with the weird British accents. I feel all left out now..." I whined, mostly joking. 

And it was true. I hadn't really noticed it too much earlier today, because I had been so excited and nervous. Now, just talking to Harry, I noticed how he lilted his words and pronounced everything in a way that sounded utterly sophisticated compared to my accent. 

Still grinning, he reached over and patted my hand playfully. "Eh, give it a year or two, and you'll sound just like Ron here."

I laughed and glanced back over at the redheaded boy, who had finally managed to extract himself from the duo of naggers. 

"So," Ron said, smoothing his hair and wiping his forehead slightly, "have you heard from Si--" He stopped, catching the look Hermione was giving him.

Curious, I glanced from Ron to Harry, then shrugged it off as it was none of my business anyway. However, Ginny seemed about to question them, so Hermione stepped up. 

"Don't you think your mother could use some help, Ron? I mean, it is an awfully large crowd," Hermione asked him, shooting him a piercing glare. 

"Um, yeah, right!"

We made our way down to the kitchen, where Mrs. Weasley was banging around the kitchen, looking very bad-tempered indeed.

"We're eating in the garden," she said when she saw us. "There's just not room for twelve people in here. Could you take the plates outside, girls? Charlie and Bill are setting up the tables." She gestured to the precariously stacked pile of well-used, mismatched plates, and Ginny, Hermione, and I grabbed them before slipping out the back door. 

Once outside, we all breathed a sigh of relief, then giggled at each other. Before I could take another step, a large orange streak ran past, chasing what looked like a muddy potato that had decided to grow legs instead of eyes. 

Hermione laughed at my befuddled expression. "The orange thing is Crookshanks, my cat/kneazle. It was chasing a garden gnome, the pesky little creatures."

She opened her mouth to say more, but we had rounded the hedge that obstructed the view from the kitchen to the backyard, where a series of crashes was currently coming from. 

Bill and Charlie, both with wands in their hands, each had a table floating high above them, and they were crashing them against each others, trying to knock them out of the air. 

I smiled broadly at the sight. Setting up tables, indeed. Perhaps a little more 'up' than Mrs. Weasley had in mind.  It was nice seeing someone else exhibit the same powers that I had so openly, without worry that they would be called freaks, abominations. 

Laughing as Charlie's table thumped into Bill's with a creaky groan, I joined Ginny and the twins, cheering them on. My money was on Bill. 

I heard Ron and Harry join us seconds before Bill slammed his table into Charlie's, knocking one of it's legs off. 

There was a noise above and behind us. We a turned and saw Percy's head sticking out a window on the second floor. 

"Will you keep it down?!" he bellowed. 

"Sorry, Perce!" Bill called with a mischievous smile, looking none too sorry. "How're the cauldron bottoms coming?"

"Badly!" And with that, he slammed the window shut again. 

Ginny and I burst out laughing. After everything had settled down (and the tables put back together), Mrs. Weasley brought out the food and everyone gathered round. 

I sat next to Ron, Harry, and Hermione towards the end of the table(s?). Everyone seemed to be engrossed in their conversations, and I sat, picking at my food. The three beside me were engaged in some sort of whispered conversation, Percy and Mr. Weasley were talking about ministry business, Mrs. Weasley was trying to get Bill to let her cut his hair, and Fred, George, and Charlie were talking about the World Cup. I heard snatches of conversations from each, all of it thoroughly confusing me. One word, however, caught my attention. 

I nudged the raven haired boy next to me. "Hey Harry, what's quidditch?"

Harry jumped in surprise, and Ron snorted into his pudding. Hermione threw me a baleful look, which I understood the reason for as Harry and Ron launched into a lengthy explanation of the sport. 

By the time supper ended, I felt like my brain would explode if I absorbed any more information. At least I felt confident that I could follow the game tomorrow, which I had just learned we were attending. 

I almost jumped for joy when Mrs. Weasley suggested we go in. Hastily, I said, "Mrs. Weasley, let me help you take the stuff inside."

She laughed, not unkindly. "It's okay, dear. It's easier to use magic to do it."

"I know!" I grinned. Gesturing toward the now empty dishes on the table, I concentrated and soon had the entire contents of the table hovering in the air. I smiled and did a little victory dance in my head before I realized that it had gotten really quiet...

I turned back around, and saw all the Weasleys, along with Harry and Hermione, staring at me with open mouths. 

"What?" 

After what seemed like ages, the people-turned-statues asked a question simultaneously: "You can do wandless magic?" At the word magic, their faces all convulsed in fright and they leapt at the plates, trying to pull them from the air. Seeing this, I let them go and looked around, bewildered as everyone began talking in hushed, worried tones. 

"Um, guys? What's wrong?"

Nothing. 

"Hellooo? Question here!"

Zip. 

"Guys!!"

They didn't so much as pause in their conversation. 

Suddenly, Callisthene (who had followed me outside and had been chasing Crookshanks chasing garden gnomes) let out a shrill cry that had everyone staring at her. 

"Uh, yeah, hi. What's going on?" I asked, slightly nervous under everyone's gaze. 

Mr. Weasley stepped up to me, putting his hand the shoulder not occupied by a large, annoyed bird. "Selenity, you can't do magic like that. There's an age restriction that says you have to be of age, seventeen years old, to do magic. All minors have a Trace on them that alerts the ministry of Underage Magic."

I was so lost. "But I don't have a Trace on me."

"All minors have one, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. 

"No, I mean my dad did something when I was born that fooled the Trace and hid me from the Wizarding world. I've been doing this kind of stuff," here I gestured at the now motionless plates, "all my life, and no one ever got onto me." Well, except those neighbors... I added mentally. 

Mr. Weasley frowned, not at me but to himself. "Well, I'll owl Dumbledore about it tonight. Until we get his response, please don't do any magic. I don't want you to get expelled from Hogwarts before you've even begun your term!" He clapped my back and laughed a little. 

I smiled and agreed, and everyone began filing in, each person carrying a dish or tablecloth in their arms, apparently forgetting the whole 'it's easier to carry in with magic' bit. 

..ooOOoo..

Later, I was up in Ginny's room with her and Hermione. We were talking about clothes, oddly enough. 

"Oh! You have to see this shirt, it's my favorite!" I exclaimed, grabbing my backpack. I stuck my arm in up to my shoulder and started rummaging around for my favorite tee. "Aha!" I said, triumphantly pulling it out. I held it up and threw it to Ginny.

"It's cute! ...But why is it covered in hair?" She shook it to punctuate her words, and a cloud of fur drifted lazily to the floor. 

I recognized it instantly. "Luna! Grrr... She's one of my dogs. She probably got all over it when I was packing stuff. Although I could have sworn I packed it first to avoid that exact thing..."

Suddenly, my bag began moving. Squealing, we forgot the shirt and jumped to Ginny's bed. After a few shakes, the bag fell over and I saw a pair of glittering eyes peering at me through the darkness. 

"Wait a minute... Luna?!" I laughed as Luna poked her white head out, followed closely by two black and brown streaks. "Tater Tot, Rory!"

The dogs tackled us, sniffing and whimpering and just going crazy. After I explained to Ginny and Hermione about them (they must have snuck in while I was waiting on Snape to arrive), they each warmed up to Tater Tot and Rory respectively.

Soon, we were all dozing off on the beds. I dove back in my bag for my iPod, thinking that it couldn't get better than this. Then I came across... 

"Noooooo!!!!!!!!"

Ginny and Hermione shot up, fear plastered on their faces. "What? What happened?!"

"They ate all my beef jerky!!"