An eight year old Lucy Weasley watches as her cousins and older sister soar high above the ground on their brooms, most of them intently focused on their game of Quidditch. But she can't play, and she never will be able to play, because that's what happens to people who are born with only three fingers on one hand. Like aliens. Or cartoon characters. Sometimes she thinks she may as well be an alien for the way people look at her as soon as they realise she lacks the conventional number of digits. But that's not all ladies and gents, she's a witch too!

Lucy Weasley, freak show extraordinaire.

When she turns eleven, and she starts to speak seriously of Hogwarts with her parents, they smile at her reassuringly. But she doesn't miss their side glances at each other and their uneasiness. You learn to be pretty observant with a life like Lucy's.

She's not surprised in the least when her parents call her into her father's study.

Her father takes a deep breath before beginning to speak. "Lucy, your mother and I know how excited you are to go to Hogwarts. But, we're not sure you'd be able to go."

"Why not?" she half-yells, preparing herself for a long-winded battle.

Her mother winces. "Lucy, we know you already struggle to grip things, and a wand, well, there is a certain technique. We're not sure.."

"I can do it," Lucy's voice is flushed with indignation.

"Here," her father offers her his wand. "Don't try any spells, mind."

Lucy takes the wand from her father's hand and holds it, and it's there, but then it falls to the ground with an echoing clatter.

Not one to give up easily, Lucy bends down to try again, but her father pockets the wand before she can get to it.

"I'm sorry," - and to his credit he does sound sorry, but Lucy isn't quite sure if he's more sorry for himself or for her - "You're not going to be able to go to Hogwarts."

The scream Lucy lets out is practically earth-shattering. "You can't do this," she sobs. "I have magic, you know I do."

"Lucy-"

But it's too late, and angry tears are streaming down her face and she's storming out of the study.

Lucy's anger is like a firework – burning white hot at first but it fizzles out pretty soon. By the next morning, she comes down to breakfast like last night's tantrum didn't happen. Not to say she's ready to give up her rightful place at Hogwarts.

Her mother doesn't say anything either, just offers her the milk quietly.

"Dad had to go into work early," she explains, and Lucy just nods.

"What your father and I wanted to tell you last night, is that you have other options."

"I don't want to go to a Muggle school," Lucy protests.

"Let me finish, please."

Shovelling cereal into her mouth, Lucy pouts for a moment.

"In America, there's a magical school for wizarding children with disabilities. It's far away, obviously, but your father and I think it would be good for you to go there."

Lucy blinks for a few seconds in surprise. "How often would I be able to come home?"

"You could come home every holidays if you wanted to. But we think that Christmas and summer would be the best times."

"I want to go."

Audrey smiles now. "The three of us can go through the paperwork tonight."

"What else do you know about the school?"

"It's a fairly new establishment. But it has about the same number of students as Hogwarts, because they take students from all over the Northern Hemisphere. We've definitely got a brochure for it in the study."

Lucy's eyes light up with excitement. "Can I see it now?"

"You know the rule," her mother replies, sternly.

Lucy just sighs and finishes her cereal as quickly as she can.

That Sunday, they go over to Bill and Fleur's for dinner. Teddy and Victoire are there, both of them finished with Hogwarts by now.

Teddy notices Lucy's uncharacteristic happiness, and smiles down at her. "What's up?" he grins.

"I'm going to school. In America!" she exclaims while Percy and Audrey beam behind her back.

"That's great!" Teddy ruffles her hair. "What do you think it will be like?"

"Well, we'll learn Muggle subjects as well as magic ones. And they'll be people from all over the world!" she confides, her eyes wide.

Fleur sets down a salad on the table and smiles at her. "Oui? Per'aps I should teach you French then."

Lucy's shyness returns and she shrugs. "Maybe."

Victoire laughs. "It could be useful, you know."

Teddy smiles now. "At least you won't have to be teased by all your insane cousins for being an ickle firstie."

"It's not called first year," she gasps, serious as ever. "It's fifth grade."

"If you come back speaking like an American, I think we might have to keep you here after all," Percy teases, ignoring his wife's tightening grip on his arm.

When Lucy comes back home for Christmas that year, she's happier than anyone has ever seen her. Because she can do wandless magic now, and she knows she's more talented in that regard than anyone else in her family, even Uncle Harry or Aunt Hermione.

Lucy Weasley, witch extraodinaire.

A/N: Written for QL. Puddlemere, Chaser 1, written by reserve.