Rose Weasley looked out the window of the train compartment, her large blue eyes wide with wonder. Despite this being the fifth time she had ridden the Hogwarts Express to school on September first, it still instilled her with a sense of awe. She remembered that, when she was only eleven, her father had told her not to get too friendly with Scorpius Malfoy, the son of Draco Malfoy. Ron Weasley and Draco had never gotten along, but Rose had seen the elder Malfoy many times before. He had seemed quite friendly to the children, always giving salutations to Scorpius’s friends, and nodding to the children of the Potters and Weasleys. But maybe that was all an act. Rose highly doubted it, and she was wonderful at seeing attributes in people.

“Rosie?” asked the distracted girl that was Rose’s cousin, Lily Potter. “Are you okay?”

Rose turned to the black-haired girl and rolled her eyes. “Where did that come from?” she asked, gesturing to the small, glistening piece of jewelry in Lily’s mouth.

Lily smiled, not at all ashamed of not telling Rose about her newest piercing. “Like it?”

“Not particularly…” Rose said slowly. “Although, it’s not my style so maybe… No, sorry, it doesn’t work for me.”

Lily put on her brilliantly perfected puppy-dog face, and Rose sighed. “That won’t always make people agree with you,” she said, exasperated.

On the other side of the compartment, Lily’s fellow third year and cousin, Hugo, rolled his eyes. “Lily, it looks brilliant. Don’t listen to Rosie; she’s just jealous that it wouldn’t look good on her.”

Rose snarled, “Alright, that’s it you little-”

James, the eldest of the cousins (being in his seventh year and all), stood up and held his arms out. “Rosie, Hugo, be civil. It’s only another two hours until we get to the school, and in that time, I don’t want to be the subject of a homicide witness interview. Then again, I won’t be a witness as I have a meeting to go to…” James trailed off. “Al, I’ve got to run to the prefect meeting. As second oldest, you’re in charge until I get back. Keep the dramatics to a minimum, please.” And on that note, James walked out the glass door, running a hand through his messy black hair.

“He’s so much like Dad says Grandpa was,” Lily giggled.

“That’s not the point,” Rose said. “The point is that I’m a month and a half Al’s senior.”

Albus Potter, known to all as Al, grinned. “Oh, Rosie, it’s okay. On the train ride home, I promise you can be in charge when James runs off to save the world.”

Rose scowled at him. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Al! I don’t care about being ‘in charge’; I care about my cousins remembering when I was born!”

“I’m here with a noise complaint from the next compartment,” said a voice at the door. “Why all the shouting?”

“Hi, Scorpius,” Lily rolled her brown eyes. “How are you on this fine September day? The weather’s certainly treating us well. Everything all right in the world of blue and silver? Well, it mustn’t be fine, or else you wouldn’t have made the journey to our humble compartment.”

“Put a lid on it, Lily,” Al said.

Scorpius Malfoy smirked. “Hello, Lily. I’m doing remarkably well today, thanks for asking. And no, nothing is amiss in Ravenclaw.”

“You all sound so formal,” Hugo Weasley piped up from the corner, raising his head from his book, Hogwarts: A History.

“You are so like your mum,” Al rolled his eyes. “Do you want to sit down, Scorp?”

“Only if you promise never to call me that again.” Scorpius laughed.

James walked back into the compartment door, obviously not watching where he was going, and right into Scorpius. “Well, hello there!” James said with a grin.

The two boys sat down by the others and proceeded to stare at Hugo with wide eyes. The red-headed boy looked up, startled. “Er, why are you all watching me?”

“You’re reading that book,” James whispered. “Why are you reading that book? That book is scary!”

“Only to people with the intelligence level of gnats, such as yourself.” Rose said with a smile.

James looked affronted. “I’ll have you know, my dear cousin, that I got almost all E’s on my O.W.L.s last year!”

“Really?” Rose looked genuinely surprised. “Wait… what changed it from ‘completely’ to ‘almost’?”

James began to look embarrassed, and Lily and Al roared with laughter. “H-h-h-he got…” Lily stuttered as she tried to breathe.

“A T in History of Magic!” Al completed. “No wonder he hates that Hugo’s reading that!”

Scorpius, Rose, and Hugo joined in the hysterics; all the while James looked more and more humiliated until he almost looked as though he would cry.

“Aw, Jamesie, don’t let it get you down!” Lily patted his shoulder. “I’m sure that one of us will do worse than you… Maybe… If you’re lucky…”

“Alright, everyone. I think that’s enough. Look at the poor kid.” Scorpius gestured to James’s hurt face. “I don’t think any of you would appreciate this if it were you. But James… Seriously… That was pathetic!”

---

Upon leaving the welcoming feast, the friends were all split up. Scorpius bid the others farewell and went off to join the rest of his fellow Ravenclaws. The rest went to Gryffindor Tower. James stole away to the seventh year boys’ dorm, where he and his friends Connor Pyle and Demetri Wood were planning the prank of the century (funny how being a prefect hadn’t even raised his maturity level at all). Al went to his dorm, where he was ready to enjoy a full night of sleep. Hugo decided that, rather than joining his other friends, he would read more of Hogwarts: A History in an armchair by the fire. As for Lily and Rose, they walked to the corner of the room and began chatting.

“What do you think of Scorpius?” Lily asked.

“By that, you mean…” Rose stated.

Lily replied, “Well, he seems nice and all, but I dunno. He’s a Malfoy, and your dad told us never to trust one. Scorpius doesn’t seem at all like his family; for Merlin’s sake, he’s a Ravenclaw! But whenever we’re around him, it just feels like something bad is about to happen.”

“Merlin, Lily, it’s not his fault that he’s a danger magnet!” Rose laughed. “Don’t you remember the time he fell off his broom in first year during flying lessons and broke his wrist? You can’t blame him for that. Just like you can’t blame him for accidentally flying into James during that Quidditch game last year.”

“Why not?” Lily asked.

“Well, for starters, he tried to swerve,” Rose pondered. “He couldn’t stop apologizing after the fact. And he injured himself, too. Not as bad as James, but why would he do something with the possibility of hurting himself?”

“I’m not sure,” Lily said. “I guess I see your point there. I mean, he is really nice a lot of the time, but there’s just something weird about him.”

“Maybe the fact that he’s Draco’s son, and after the hard time he gave our dads, you’re having a problem accepting him?” Rose asked. “I can’t think of much else.”

“You’re probably right,” Lily sighed. “Wow, I’m tired. Might as well go to bed. You coming?”

“Erm… Yeah,” Rose stood up to follow her cousin. “See you tomorrow, Hugo!” she yelled to her younger brother.

Hugo didn’t reply; he just raised his hand and gave a pathetic little wave. That boy was too immersed in his book to notice anything.

Later that night, Rose awoke with a start. Not sure why she was awakened so suddenly, she looked around her dorm to see if anyone had tripped on their way in. No, Cassandra, Alicia, Morgan, and Faye were all sound asleep in their beds. Rose stood up and walked to the window, strangely aware of the fact that something awful may have happened. She didn’t see anything unusual on the grounds, so she tiptoed to the doorway that led to the stairs. Silently creeping down the stairs, she reached the common room.

“NO!” she screamed.

Rose stared in shock at her baby brother, little Hugo, lying on the floor. He looked as though he had fallen out of his chair, but wouldn’t he have been able to get up? The awkward positioning that he was stuck in suggested that he wouldn’t have been able to get up, for it looked rather painful, and Rose was certain that Hugo would have quickly gotten out of the position, had he been able to.

Finally breaking out of her trance, Rose ran over to the red-headed boy. Hogwarts: A History was at his side; obviously Hugo had dropped it when he fell. Rose picked up his wrist and checked for a pulse, for her cousin Victoire (who was a Healer in training) had told her always to do that. There was one! Rose sighed with relief before realizing that she had no idea what to do next. She did the only thing she could think of…

“LILY!” she screamed.

---

Lily shot up in her bed, her eyes wide. She looked around her dorm and saw her friend, blond Christine Lennon, was awake. This was strange, considering Christine was a very sound sleeper. “Lily,” Christine said, “I think someone called you.”

“Thanks, Christine,” Lily called over her shoulder as she ran out of the dorm. After sliding down the banister of the staircase, she saw Rose kneeling in the corner, looking at something. “Rosie?”

Rose turned around, and Lily saw that she was crying. “Oh, Rose! What--” she began, but then she saw Hugo. “Hugo!” she whispered. “What happened?” Although, in her mind, it was obvious what had happened. He collapsed, idiot, she thought, angry at herself for being so ignorant.

“I have no idea!” Rose wailed. “I woke up and heard a crash. Nothing happened in my dorm so I came down here to check and I found Hugo just laying here!”

“We need to get Madam Walsh,” Lily said calmly. Madam Alexis Walsh was the Hogwarts nurse. She was most likely the best for the job, as she knew almost every remedy for every illness by heart.

“How do we get him there?” Rose asked frantically.

“Mobilicorpus,” Lily said, pointing her wand at Hugo. His small body rose into the air as though suspended by puppet strings, and Lily walked to the portrait hole with Hugo ‘following’ her. “Rosie, come on!”

Rose picked up her wand and ran to the door, after her red-headed cousin. She had to admit, it was a very strange site, a petite third year running down the hall with a fellow classmate suspended in midair behind her. As soon as they reached the hospital wing, Rose ran to Madam Walsh’s office and knocked on the closed door as hard as she could. “Madam Walsh!” she cried.

A tall, brunette woman opened the door with a concerned look on her face. “Miss Weasley, whatever is the problem?”

“That!” Rose said, verging on hysterics, pointing to where Lily was lowering Hugo down onto a bed by the door.

“Oh, dear me!” the nurse exclaimed. She hurried over to the bed and looked at Rose. “Did you check for a pulse?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Rose nodded.

“How long ago did this happen?” Madam Walsh asked as she lifted her wand over Hugo and began performing countless spells.

“Assuming Rose called me within moments of finding him, approximately twenty minutes ago,” Lily informed the nurse.

“Alright, well,” Madam Walsh said, “I’m not sure what to tell you right now, but if you wish, you can stay with him until the morning. If he wakes up, fetch me right away. I’ll have a few questions to ask him. In the meantime, I have a few editions of Witch Weekly if you would like to look through them to pass the time, and one of the castle’s elves should appear any moment now to clean up. If you’re hungry, don’t hesitate to ask her for something.”

On that note, Madam Walsh walked out of the room into her office and closed the door. Lily heard her put something on her desk that sounded like a book. “Rosie,” Lily said, putting a hand on her cousin’s shoulder.

Rose looked down at her little brother. “I wish I knew what happened,” she said slowly. “I wish I could have done something to help.”

---

“James!” shouted a voice. “James!”

James sat up in his bed and put a hand to his forehead. “Did I sleep through a class?”

“No, you idiot,” Connor Thomas, the son of Dean Thomas and Sally-Anne Perks, said, rolling his eyes. “It’s Saturday, and only three in the morning! But anyway, that’s not the point. Your cousin Hugo was found collapsed in the common room. Rose and Lily found him and were just here. They want you in the hospital wing right away.”

James stood up and grabbed a sweatshirt to throw on over his T-shirt. “Is Hugo okay? Did they say anything else?”

“No,” Connor said, walking back to his own bed. “I was awake, studying, and the two girls ran up here. They didn’t want to wake anyone else up, so they told me.”

“And you didn’t have a problem waking us up?” asked an African boy named Trevor Giles as he was rudely awakened.

“Nope!” Connor said proudly.

“Alright, man, go see your cousin,” Trevor said, rolling over. “Good luck!”

“Hey, James?” Nolan asked.

James turned around with a confused look on his face. “Yeah?”

“Is your sister single?” Nolan asked with a grin.

James spun on his heel and marched out of the dorm, giving Nolan a very obscene hand gesture over his shoulder.

James ran out of the dorm just in time to see Albus standing in the common room. “Al, did the girls get you?”

“Yeah, they just left.” Al sounded scared. “They said something about Hugo and the hospital wing and ran. We should hurry; it could be serious.”

By the time the boys arrived in the hospital wing, Headmistress McGonagall, a Healer named Lenore Moon, Hermione Weasley, and Ron Weasley were there, and Hugo was awake as well. “Uncle Ron,” Al asked, “do you know what happened?”

“Yes, Al, we do,” Ron said sadly. “Healer Moon, do you know how this will affect Hugo’s school performances?”

It was obvious that something was dire if Ron was concerned about schoolwork.

“Well, Mr. Weasley, I’m afraid we can’t say much as of right now,” Healer Moon said. “But for the time being, I see no reason why Hugo should have to leave school. There are a few treatments we know of, including injections that will minimize effects.”

“Uncle Ron, what happened?” James asked.

“Hugo has multiple sclerosis,” Ron answered.

“What?” Al asked. He sounded as confused as the look on James’s face.

“He has multiple sclerosis,” Healer Moon said, “which is a Muggle disease.”

“Wait a minute,” Ron cut in. “How did Hugo contract a Muggle disease if he’s a wizard?”

Healer Moon tucked a lock of frizzy brunette hair behind her ear as she thought. She frowned, and then replied, “Multiple sclerosis is, in some cases, acquired due to heredity. I believe that Mrs. Weasley here, being of Muggle descent, had an ancestor with the disease.” Healer Moon looked at Hermione. “Am I correct?”

Hermione wiped a tear from her eye and nodded. “My Uncle Ichabod had it. But it wasn’t too serious for him.”

Healer Moon paused before replying, “There are some cases that may paralyze the patient. I do not believe, however,” she added as Hermione gasped, “that this is one of them. Most commonly, the symptoms show up in adults aged twenty to forty, but it’s not always the case. There are times when symptoms may appear as early as Hugo’s age, thirteen, and even earlier. Some cases are extremely serious, and I would have him admitted to Saint Mungo’s to control the disease. As for Hugo’s, it doesn’t seem to be as bad as you may think. He should be able to continue his daily routine in just a few days.”

Hermione sighed happily, but then began to look troubled again. “Is there a cure for this at all?” she asked.

Healer Moon sadly shook her head. “No cure has been found, in either the Muggle or Wizarding worlds. However, there are some disease modifying drugs that we can give him that will help with the attacks. Now, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, Professor McGonagall, and Madam Walsh, I would like it if you were to stay here to talk for a spell.”

McGonagall asked, “What about Messrs. Potter and Potter, Miss Potter, and Miss Weasley? Where should they go?”

Healer Moon smiled. “Alas, Professor, I am one step ahead of you. The four children can walk to your office, where I have my assistant, who can answer any of their questions in a way that they can understand. Children, you know where your Headmistress’s office is.”

And James, Al, Lily, and Rose took that as a polite way of Healer Moon saying, “Get lost.”

---

Stepping into McGonagall’s office that night felt different. The four of them had all been there to receive punishments, or to talk about their schedules, or, in Lily’s case, to discuss the drastic change to her appearance that occurred around the middle of her second year.

Lily had gone home over the Christmas holidays with vibrant red hair, just like her mum’s. She returned to the castle, however, with hair a darker black than the Great Hall’s ceiling at midnight. The teachers had believed that it was a desperate plea for attention, which James and Al got much of (considering they bared strong resemblance to their father). Lily looked little to nothing like her father and not a considerable lot to her mother, a world-famous Quidditch player for the Chudley Cannons. The only thing she had shared in appearance was her mum’s red hair. Lily had dyed her hair black, but not for the reason that she wanted more attention. It was because it went with her new, more rebellious style more than her previously coloured hair had.

But then, in that moment, the office looked larger than life and ominous. James looked around for a moment and sank into a chair, springing back up only to remove a book titled Magical Water Plants of the Highland Locks from the seat and sit back down. Lily looked around in awe at the large, towering bookshelves and sat beside James. She remembered that Hugo, having been in here once to be interrogated about her new, reckless behavior, had vowed to read each and every one of these books someday. Hugo had planned to be Headmaster of Hogwarts one day. Lily wondered, sadly, whether or not Hugo had this chance now that he was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.

Al walked to the chair behind McGonagall’s desk and sat down. It had a high, wide back, red-velvet cushioned seat, and intricately engraved arms. There was a delicate pattern sewn into the scarlet cushion with yellow thread on the back that showed an apparently teenage boy holding a sword high in the air, his head turned up, staring towards the blade. On either side of him stood a taller boy with a slightly longer than average nose holding a wand emitting sparks and a girl with apparently frizzy hair clutching a cloak to her chest. A ring lay next to the boy in the middle’s feet. All three of them had looks of triumph, joy, and excitement on their faces. On the seat of the chair, in the same coloured thread, was sewn a ring with a triangle surrounding a circle and a line through the circle on its side, a locket with a snake in the shape of an S on its front, a diary with what appeared to be a huge fang through it, a cup with the head of a badger on its front with one of its handles cracking off, a crown that appeared to be melting slowly, and a snake slithering away so that you couldn’t see its head. If it had a head.

“What do you reckon about this?” Al asked, gesturing to the chair.

“It’s Mum, Dad, and Uncle Harry, of course,” Rose said, smiling. “From when they defeated Voldemort!”

“They made a chair depicting it?” Lily asked, shocked.

“It would seem so.” James nodded.

“I wonder who that assistant to Moon is,” Al said slowly, “and if we’ll know him.”

“Or her,” James said, pointing upward.

A woman with lilac-coloured robes swept down a staircase from the top level of the office, where a majority of McGonagall’s books were kept. “Hello, children!” she said brightly. “I am Miss Gilda Ringworth, counselor to Healer Isabelle Moon. Now, as I’ve introduced myself, why don’t you all enlighten me as to whom all of you are?”

“I’m Lily Potter,” Lily said, extending her hand so that Gilda could shake it.

“M’name’s Albus Potter, but call me Al.” Al shook Gilda’s hand as well.

“Rose Weasley.” Rose smiled brightly.

“You look mighty familiar,” James wondered aloud. “And I’m James Potter.”

“You say I look familiar, Mr. Potter?” Gilda asked. “Have you ever been to Saint Mungo’s Hospital on a Wednesday, Friday, or Saturday?”

“We’ve only been there once, when our mum’s friend Luna Scamander give birth to her son Lorcan,” Lily said, “and I hardly remember what day it was.”

“It was a Monday,” James said, offering no clue as to how he remembered that. “So no, we’ve never seen�”wait a minute! I know where I recognize you from!” James looked again at Gilda’s wavy blond hair and bright blue eyes. “Are you Gilderoy Lockhart’s sister?”

Gilda laughed; it was a high-pitched sound, almost like chimes blowing in the wind. “No, no, my dear! I’m his daughter!”

“That was a strange turn of events.” Rose observed, still stationed in her chair.

“I recognize you now, too!” Al exclaimed. “When we went to see Luna after Lorcan’s birth, we passed your dad in the mental ward! But, wait… If he was in there, how were you ever born?”

“Gilderoy has recovered from the long-lasting effects of the Memory charm that backfired on him,” Gilda explained. “I was adopted when I was a wee girl, not too far from your own age.” She pointed to Rose. “I assume you’re thirteen?”

“No,” Rose said haughtily. “I’m fifteen. And I’ll be sixteen in three months.”

“Yes, of course, dear,” Gilda said dismissively. “Thirteen, fifteen, they’re the same difference.”

“You’re Healer Moon’s assistant?” Al asked, trying to keep things friendly between the two women.

“Her patient counselor,” Gilda corrected. “It’s a very important job.”

“We don’t need counseling!” Rose exclaimed. “We just want to know about Hugo!”

“Dearie me,” Gilda said softly, “I think this is all going to her head! Poor doll! Well, all of you sit down, and I’ll explain this to you as best I can.”

Al, James, and Lily all sat back down in their chairs, James and Al temporarily fighting over the embroidered one. Al eventually gave up and went to sit next to Lily, and James crowed triumphantly as he took the chair behind McGonagall’s desk.

Gilda dove into her obviously carefully rehearsed speech, “If someone you love is diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, more commonly called MS, you may feel a combination of confusion, fright, and concern. Getting facts about this disease can help. Now, let’s start with what MS is, shall we? MS is a disease that affects the central nervous system that causes the immune system to target itself. Healer Moon suspects that Hugo has a type called relapsing-remitting MS, which is where the afflicted shows clearly defined relapses with some recovery in between. Eighty percent of people with MS have this variety. Do you have any questions about what it is?”

Rose spoke up, “What happens during a relapse?”

Gilda thought for a moment, and then answered, “During a relapse, Hugo may experience physical disability, as well as trouble with memory and problem solving. However, the progression lies beneath the surface. You may very well have MS and feel perfectly healthy. Physical disability can be slowed if it is discovered early, so it is much better that we diagnosed him now.”

James looked at Gilda. “How is he treated for it?”

Gilda replied, “He can have an injection to the muscle tissue of a certain medication. This medication, a Muggle kind called Avonex that is injected once a week.”

“Alright,” James said slowly. “Will that help?”

“It most certainly should,” Gilda nodded. “Do any of you have more questions?”

Rose shook her head, and the Potters remained silent. “Then you may go back to the hospital wing or your dorm.” Gilda gestured to the door. “It was nice meeting you all.”