The Weasley family was gathered near the barrier to Platform 9 ¾. Mrs. Weasley was busy fussing over Percy's collar when Ana and Harry approached.
"Excuse me," Harry started, but his voice was drowned out by the steam.
Ana stepped forward. She was exhausted from the journey, and the "Influence" was leaking out of her in waves of unintended vulnerability. She looked at the kind-faced woman in the knitted sweater and felt a sudden, desperate need for a mother's warmth.
"Please," Ana whispered, her voice carrying that melodic, silver chime. "We need help finding the way."
The effect was like a physical shockwave. Mrs. Weasley's heart didn't just melt; it shattered. Her maternal instincts flared into a fierce, protective fire. She lunged forward—not to shake hands, but to pull Ana into a crushing, soft hug.
"Oh, you poor, delicate thing!" Molly cried, her voice thick with emotion. "Look at you, all skin and bones! Ron, Fred, George—get their trunks! Now!"
The Weasley brothers didn't hesitate. Fred and George, usually the first to make a joke, were suddenly silent and focused. They moved with military precision, lifting the heavy trunks as if they were feathers, their eyes never leaving Ana with a look of newfound, knight-like devotion.
Ginny's HeartbeatStanding behind her mother was ten-year-old Ginny. She had grown up hearing stories of the Boy Who Lived, but as she looked at Ana, the stories vanished. She saw a girl who looked like a dream—fragile, powerful, and radiant. Ginny felt a strange, fluttering heat in her chest that she didn't understand. She didn't just want to be Ana's friend; she felt a soul-deep urge to follow her anywhere.
The Compartment: First MeetingsOnce on the train, Harry finally managed to steer Ana into a private compartment. But they weren't alone for long.
The Ron EncounterThe door slid open, and the youngest Weasley boy, Ron, poked his head in. He looked like he'd been struck by lightning. He had seen her on the platform, but up close, the "Pull" was undeniable.
"Is it true?" he stammered, his face turning as red as his hair. "Are you really... Ana?"
He sat down, but he couldn't stop fidgeting. Every time Ana shifted in her seat, Ron jumped to help. "Are you hungry? I've got some corned beef—no, it's rubbish, you shouldn't eat that. Here, have my chocolate frog. All of them. I don't want them."
He handed over his entire stash of sweets with a trembling hand, looking at her like she was a holy relic. Harry glared at him, but Ron was too far gone to notice the warning.
The Hermione EncounterHalfway through the trip, a girl with bushy hair and a bossy tone burst in. "Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one."
Hermione Granger stopped mid-sentence. Her analytical mind, usually busy memorizing textbooks, stalled. She looked at Ana—at her silver eyes and the way she held herself—and her "know-it-all" attitude evaporated.
"Oh!" Hermione gasped, her voice softening into something uncharacteristically gentle. "Your posture is terrible for your spine, dear. Here, let me fix your cushion."
Within five minutes, Hermione wasn't talking about spells or grades. She was sitting at Ana's feet, showing her the proper way to pronounce charms as if she were a tutor protecting a brilliant but delicate ward.
The Gathering StormBy the time the train slowed down, the compartment was full.
Ron was standing guard by the door, refusing to let anyone in.
Hermione was organizing Ana's belongings, making sure her robes were perfectly lint-free.
Harry sat in the middle of it all, his jaw tight.
He realized that his sister wasn't just a girl anymore. To these people, she was a centerpiece. They weren't just being nice; they were becoming an army.
"Everyone, get out," Harry finally snapped as the castle came into view. "She needs to change."
"We'll wait right outside the door, Ana," Ron promised fervently. "No one gets past us."
"I'll make sure the corridors are clear for you," Hermione added, her eyes bright with a fierce, academic loyalty.
As they left, Ana looked at Harry. "They're doing it again, aren't they?"
"They are," Harry said, helping her stand up. He looked out the window at the dark lake. "But at least this time, they're on our side. I just hope they remember you're a person, not a prize."