Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and plot ideas.

Chapter 1

Macy trudged through the crowded street of Diagon Alley with a six-year-old asleep on her back, an eight-year-old holding her hand, and four other siblings on her tail. All of them had their arms full of quills, robes, and lots of textbooks. A dull pain cradled Macy's head, and she fought to ignore the thousands of thoughts that scraped her mind as they passed. She was already overstimulated by the crowds, but her legilimency made it ten times worse.

The start of her seventh year was fast approaching, and Macy had no idea what to expect. With Voldemort defeated and Harry Potter graduated from Hogwarts, maybe she would have a normal year for once.

"Macy!" came a whine from Jonathan, who'd just turned eleven, "We should go to that joke shop." The other children chorused their agreement.

Macy looked up at the giant red building with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes painted on the front. She suddenly became aware of her sore feet and back, aching from carrying her twenty-kilo brother and a cauldron full of Jonathon's textbooks. "Okay… only for a little bit."

Macy gathered the kids around her in front of the store. "You have a half-hour, alright? I am leaving in thirty minutes, with or without you. So, get all of your purchases done, everything cleaned up, and back at the front of the shop by quarter-till. Understood?"

All of the children nodded, inching towards the door.

"Here are your groups. Don't leave them for any reason. Johnny and Nicholas, you're together. Same with Celeste and Samuel. Phineas is… still asleep, so he'll stay with me. Victoria, stay with me a minute. Alright, everyone else can go!"

The kids surged into the store, leaving all of their supplies in a giant stack at Macy's feet. Macy shifted the sleeping boy off of her back and handed him to Victoria. "Keep an eye on our stuff, okay? I'm going to apparate it home. Shouldn't take more than three trips."

Macy hooked an arm through a full cauldron, gathered as many textbooks into her arms as she could, and touched a stack of robes with her foot before disapparating with a snap. In half a minute, she was back empty-handed. She did this four times before everything was gone. Before Macy could catch her breath, Victoria shoved their brother into her arms and hurried inside. Phineas, who was now wide awake, wriggled like a fish until Macy set him down. His thoughts buzzed with excitement as he took her hand and led her inside.

Once they entered the shop, Macy's headache returned with a bout of nausea as the crowd's thoughts hung thickly in the air. She pushed back against the fog of thoughts, squinting at the ground like it was the noonday sun, as she let Phineas lead her wherever he pleased. They wandered for a while, as Macy's body began prickling and twisting beneath the surface, like the feeling you get from not having eaten anything all day. The pair ended up at an empty corner where Muggle Magic products were kept. Phineas seemed perfectly entertained by "optical illusions" and "disappearing ball" and all the other gimmicks, so Macy collapsed onto a nearby stool, rubbing her temples as she steadied her breathing.

In, out. In, out. In, out.

She stayed like that for a while.

"You alright, ma'am?"

Macy's head shot up, eyes looking into the face of a ginger man, a few years older than her. He was concerned about her. She was a costumer and he owned this shop. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks." She gave a dismissive wave.

He studied her for a moment. She's awfully pale… "Let me get you a cuppa tea," he said, walking off before she could protest.

Macy sighed, cradling her chin in her hand as she turned to watch her brother, still enthralled by the Muggle trinkets. The gentleman—Fred Weasley, she guessed—returned soon enough with a cup in hand, which he insisted she drink. She downed it in one go, scorching her throat in the process.

"Blimey, you're in that much of a hurry to be rid of me?"

Macy wiped her chin and gave him back the cup, her nausea fading ever so slightly. "You've got more important things to do than fuss over me." Behind her, a shrill whine came from Phineas, who had just poked his eye with something. He toddled over and tugged on Macy's shirt, tears bubbling in his eyes. "I suppose I've got more important things, too," she said, taking the boy into her arms.

Mr. Weasley pulled up a stool and sat by her. "He's yours?"

"Brother," Macy said. "Do you have any siblings?"

The man laughed. "More than you could dream of. Five brothers and a sister."

"Well, then, I believe I've got you beat, Mr. Weasley. I'm the oldest of eight. Four girls and four boys."

"You're joking."

Macy shook her head. "There's seven of us at your shop today, actually. And speaking of which…" She checked her pocket watch and sighed. "I'd best be on my way." She picked up her purse and slid her brother off of her lap. "Thanks for the tea, Fred."

She hurried out, brother in tow, and found her other siblings at the front of the shop, their arms full of joke boxes and trick candy.

"Two minutes late, Macy," Victoria said, fingering a love potion in one hand. "I had half a mind to leave you behind."

"Sorry, I got held up. Let's go," She raced down the stairs and took the lead down the street with Phineas by her side, periodically checking behind her to make sure nobody got left behind.

It was getting close to supper time, so the streets had thinned considerably. This was good and bad. Good because Macy could breathe without catching the stench of spoiled teenagers and relationship drama, and bad because their family stuck out like a sore thumb, all seven of them walking like ducklings in a row.

They passed by a pub where a group of teens—seventh years like her—chatted outside. Macy kept her eyes forward, quickening her step ever so slightly. They recognized her. "Death Eater!" one boy called out. No other words were exchanged, but their thoughts were loud and clear.

Murderer. Snake. Dangerous. Evil. Don't go back to Hogwarts. We don't want your kind there. Stay away from us.

Macy brushed it off. It was nothing new. She'd been hated ever since the sorting hat put her in Slytherin. She'd experienced it all: every insult, every prank, every bully for the last six years. Only one more year to go. How hard could it be?