As soon as Harry entered the Weasley house, his head turned in search of the red-haired girl, unconsciously searching for her figure among all the redheads. He remembered receiving a letter from her asking about his vacation with the Dursleys (she knew, in a way, his situation) and also asking if her twin had told her about the World Cup. The excitement of having received a letter from her did not compare to when he responded to it, and he received another one, this time on more trivial topics. He even received a photo she had taken while her brothers were playing Quidditch!
"Harry, honey!" Mrs. Weasley pounced on him, hugging him and mentioning his thinness. He nodded to everything with a smile, as his head snapped back to Skuld.
Would she have ever received a hug from her mother? Would they have ever called her affectionately? That thought put a horrible pressure on his chest, feeling bad for the redhead.
"Welcome," Skuld greeted, sitting on the first step, watching her older brothers being scolded for giving a spelled candy to her cousin. He smiled, approaching her, but held back at the last moment. They didn't have enough confidence to hug each other. "Mom, I'll be upstairs."
She didn't seem to be heard, although she didn't care, as she went up the stairs, getting out of sight of the black-haired boy, who was analyzing her. Skuld was different, of course. Taller, less pale, and her somewhat curly orange hair was longer, brighter. It reminded him, for a moment, of someone, but he couldn't say where that strange, warm familiarity came from.
[T/N: EWWW! Harry NO!!! NO ALABAMA!!!]
" Hey, Harry, let's go to my room " Ron patted him on the shoulder, and together with Hermione, he went up the same stairs that Skuld had gone up previously, although she was no longer there.
.....
Skuld woke up to someone shaking her lightly, not very roughly. She knew immediately that the person shaking her was not a Weasley. Her two options then were Harry or Hermione.
" Skuld, wake up, we're leaving now."
She sat up slowly, and looked at Hermione, yawning. She wasn't looking at her, but instead looked around. Yes, perhaps her room was not the most interesting in the house, considering that it was an old attic and she shared a room with a ghost who sometimes bothered her by banging on the pipes.
[T/N: HUh?!!?!]
She followed her gaze, and stopped to analyze her own room. Walls with some humidity, with newspaper clippings, a Slytherin garland placed on a Gryffindor garland making that part look simplistic, a Muggle poster of a rock band, and some poorly pasted photographs with the faces of Dean, Seamus, Blaise, and Draco.
She smiled. She didn't have to be ashamed of her room, it was his space, and refuge, and she had managed to make something cozy with leftovers and waste. She didn't give a shit if Hermione or anyone else judged her for sleeping in a place like that, because they didn't know anything.
"I'll be right down," the girl nodded, leaving and closing the door behind her. Damn...
She stood up abruptly, shaking her head and removing the automatically generated hatred of something as simple as her assumptions from the thoughts of the girl with the wild, curly hair.
She wasn't like that.
.....
She walked all the way at the back, even behind Ginny and Hermione, who were last. It wasn't because of her physical condition, since she was barely tired while the rest of her siblings, including her father, were panting and sweating for a few minutes. She was calm, saving air and saliva by not speaking to anyone, and immersed in her own thoughts, distracting her from feeling tired. According to the letter she had received from Seamus, he would be in the Irish zone, and she would recognize the tent he would be in for having excessive decorations in favor of his team.
Maybe as soon as she finished helping set up their tents, she would sneak out to see him.
" We have arrived!"
Skuld sat on the floor, crossing her legs and looking intently at the old boot that would be their portkey. It looked uncomfortable to touch (more so because of the risk of contracting a seriously infectious disease), but she knew it would be necessary. At least, she could watch the Quidditch World Cup, the grand final, the definitive match.
"Are you tired?" Harry sat next to her, followed by Hermione and, reluctantly, Ron.
"No," She denied, raising her head to look at the sky. " Tonight there will be a storm " she murmured, more to herself.
" Storm? " The three looked at the clear sky.
"Don't talk nonsense, it's clear, and it's hot as hell," Ron replied, with a slightly biting tone.
Skuld lowered her head, now looking at her hands, and shook her head.
" I'm not talking about that kind of storm."
She stood up, hearing her father call them.
Harry felt a pressure in his chest, knowing, even without knowing why, that he could trust Skuld Weasley's words.
[T/N: Harry, if you are there shit goes wrong, you don't need Skuld to tell you something going to happen.
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