Three in the morning and I'm once again on the floor of my tiny room in the Leaky Cauldron, trying to keep my eyes open so the nightmares can't get in. I press my back against the cold wall and stare at the ceiling. As if that will make the guilt go away. Spoiler alert; it doesn't.

I can’t get it out of my head, no matter how hard I try. Not that I’m surprised. I don’t think I could forget if I wanted to, but the nightmares make it altogether impossible.

Midge kneads my thighs and curls up on my lap, promptly falling asleep. I stroke her gray fur and try not to be jealous of my cat for being able to sleep without reliving an endless memory. Had anything been open this early in the day, I would’ve gone out to buy a sleeping potion even though I didn’t have money to spend on anything except the essentials. Then again, here I am, wasting dozens of galleons on a room here rather than staying at hom- my house until school starts up again. That’s not necessarily essential, but… who am I kidding, yes it is. I won’t be returning to that house for a long time. If it’s up to me… never.

Soft chuckles, stage whispers, and heavy footsteps slip through the crack beneath my door. I pause and strain my ears, my mopey internal monologue interrupted by noises from outside my room.

"You two, be quiet or I'll make you sleep in separate rooms!"

Molly? It definitely sounded like her, but it couldn’t be. The Weasleys were supposed to be in Egypt until school started. I blink rapidly, trying to figure out if the whispers were real or if I’d nodded off.

"You can't split up Gred and Forge, Mum!"

"Speak for yourself! You snore too much."

“I do not snore.”

“Pfft, yes you do.”

“Ginny, how would you know? You don’t even sleep in the same room as us!”

“Exactly my point!”

Any further protests were cut off with an aggressive shushing from their mother.

I was definitely not dreaming. That was the Weasleys alright. I'd recognize their voices- and sassy remarks- anywhere. The twins’ especially. Fred and George had been my best friends since we met in first year.

Apparently it's against the rules to teach yourself hexes. Well, learning them wasn't really a problem until after I'd used them on other students, but in my defense, History of Magic is boring and the kid was asking for it. Seriously, your wand is not a drumstick. Besides, I’d been wanting to try the Bat Bogey Hex for a while and it was epic.

Regardless of how deserved it was, that little stunt had earned me my first detention of the year at only three weeks in. The twins, who were on their fourth detention, had approached me and asked me to cause a distraction for them. I suppose I must've done a good job because not only were they able to sneak out of detention, but since then, I'd had two lanky shadows to call my friends.

I scramble to my feet and press my ear against the door, desperate to hear more, but all I hear is the shuffling of feet and the jingling of keys being inserted into keyholes. Midge yowls in indignation when she’s thrown from my lap unceremoniously.

“”S that a cat?” George says. I can tell it’s him and not Fred by the lack of lilt in his voice and the slightly lower pitch.

“Sounded like Midge,” Fred replies.

“How can you tell? It’s a cat.”

Regardless, two sets of footsteps inch nearer to the door and two identical shadows interrupt the faint wand light that slips beneath the door.

Midge mews again as if replying to the boys. I tense, but really, how could they tell if it were Midge? Sure, I can pick out her meow anywhere, but that's different. She's my cat. She's like my child and any good mother can identify her baby's cry amongst dozens of others-

"Why would Gwenny be here anyway? It's still summer holiday."

"I dunno, but that sounded just like Midge and Gwenny doesn't go anywhere without her-"

“Boys. Bed. Now.”

I silently thank Molly for her insistence as the shadows disappear with a few disgruntled murmurs about how she’s no fun and there’s all the time in the world to sleep in. Midge looks up at me and blinks her big yellow eyes as if to ask why I’m hiding from my best friends, but she was there that day. She saw. She knows why. I’m not ready to explain it all to them.

So I wrap my arms around the furball of a feline and crawl back into bed, staring up at the ceiling until my eyes refuse to stay open any longer and I drift into a restless sleep.