At the Burrow – 1990

Amelia felt the green flames die down around her as she stepped out of the fireplace at the Burrow one sunny summer morning. She glanced around the living room to see no one there and called out tentatively for Mrs. Weasley. This wasn't her first time at the Burrow by far, so it wasn't a surprise that no one was there to greet her, she had been coming around almost every summer a couple of times to practice one off quidditch matches with Charlie since they'd both made the team their second year. But this was the first time she was walking into the house with less than amazing news to convey.

"Mrs. Weasley?" Amelia called again when she had no answer the first time.

"In the kitchen, dear," came her reply. Amelia made her way to the cozy yet cramped kitchen. Mrs. Weasley stood orchestrating multiple dishes being washed while simultaneously magicing sandwiches to form on a platter on the counter. "Oh, Amelia darling, good to see. Sit, sit! Charlie should be down soon. Are you off to practice this afternoon."

"Yes, ma'am," Amelia said as she sat at one of the empty chairs. With another flick of Mrs. Weasley's wand a tea cup flew in front of Amelia along with a kettle, filling her cup. Amelia took the milk and sugar that were already sat on the table and began fixing her tea. "Is Charlie out?"

"No, no, I believe he's still up in his room. Should be down shortly though. He's been working on his plans for the team since he made it home," Mrs. Weasley was shaking her head but a faint smile played at her lips, "Only took a break for when Bill was here."

"Oh, did I miss Bill?" Amelia asked. It had been a few years since she'd seen the oldest Weasley. He'd finished school when she was still in her fifth year. She'd seen him the following Christmas holiday when she came for a visit at the Burrow – but had missed any of his visits since. She'd become close with both the Weasley boys at school, and had maybe harbored a bit of a crush on the Head Boy that last year, but all that had long since passed.

"I'm afraid so, dear," Mrs. Weasley said just as the clomping sound of footsteps was heard overhead. It wasn't long before a bounding Charlie Weasley skidded to a stop in the kitchen.

"Oi, Ames!" Charlie said out of breath, "Why didn't you come get me? How long have you been here?"

Amelia shrugged and sipped her tea, not quite able to meet Charlie's eyes, "Figured you'd be down soon since it's almost time to eat."

"Ready to be embarrassed on the pitch?" he asked smugly. He moved to sit next to her, grabbing a biscuit from the tin on his way.

"Charlie!" Mrs. Weasley admonished but made no move to actually stop him from his snack.

"Sorry, Mum," he said around a mouth full of biscuit before turning back to Amelia, "I've been working with Fred and George all summer. Bill even lent a hand when he was here – they're not half bad now. They've got a real knack for the game and wicked senses. I'll have to show you some of the ideas I've got for some drills we could run as well."

"Sounds great," Amelia said feebly. Charlie didn't seem to notice.

"I know we'll have to hold quidditch tryouts but it's just to make McGonagall happy. There's no need to change anything up – we were so strong last year and I don't want to ruin that."

Amelia was saved from having to answer by someone bursting through the doors. Or someonesas it were.

Fred and George were first through the doors, giggling in a way that always made Amelia nervous. The twins giggling together usually meant trouble for someone. Sure enough, a third little red head came running through the door wailing – Ginny.

The eight year old screamed incoherent words as she chased after her older brothers, all three of them running around the table. Amelia stared wide eyed at the activity. Charlie screamed at the twins to stop running and Ginny to stop crying. But the room didn't come to a standstill until Mrs. Weasley raised her voice for everyone to "Stop!"

"Whatis going on?" she demanded of her younger children.

Ginny continued to scream and cry inconsolably while Fred and George attempted to talk over one another.

"Enough!" Mrs. Weasley said with finality.

"Fred and George stole Ginny's doll," a new voice said meekly. Amelia looked to see Ron standing quietly in the doorway.

"Honestly, you two," Mrs. Weasley pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're too old for this. You're thirteen now. Give your sister her toy." The twins, amazingly, both looked demurely down at their feet.

They muttered a "Sorry, Mum," before handing the doll back to Ginny. The young girl sniffed but snatched the worn toy into her arms.

"And in front of company," Molly shook her head as she looked back at preparing lunch.

"What company?" Fred asked.

"Yeah, it's just Amelia," George shrugged.

As Mrs. Weasley began a new onslaught of reprimands on her twins, Ginny wondered over between Amelia and Charlie.

"Hi Amelia!" She said cheerfully.

"Hey Gin," Amelia scooped the small girl up into a hug, tugging her into her lap. "Good summer so far?"

"No," Ginny said finitely, looking to her brothers. "I want all the boys to go back to school and leave me and Ron alone."

Amelia laughed at that, "You know Ron's a boy too, right?"

"Yeah, well, Ron's just Ron," Ginny said, as if that explained everything to her.

Ginny babbled on for a minute or two more, sitting happily in Amelia's lap before her mother made the youngest siblings run upstairs to wash up for lunch. Amelia used the noise from the four of them trying to beat each other up the stairs to be first to lean closer to Charlie and ask hurriedly, "Can we talk after lunch before we head to the pitch?"

"Sure," Charlie said quirking an eyebrow, but was quickly up on his feet as his mother asked for help setting the table. With a flick of his wand he moved the plates from their place on the shelf to sit each in front of a chair.

Lunch was the normal chaos that came with being around the Weasley's at a meal time. Amelia didn't say much, still too worried about her looming chat with her best friend.

It seemed like both an eternity and an instant when Amelia found herself walked side by side with Charlie to the little pond a little ways off from the Burrow. The younger siblings had only been held at bay from following them by Mrs. Weasley but Amelia was sure if she wasn't quick enough the twins would somehow find their way to them.

Charlie chatted happily about the upcoming year on the way to the pond. He told her of his excitement for their N.E.W.T classes as well as additional plans for the team. Amelia felt sicker and sicker with every step.

When they made it to the pond Amelia took a deep, steadying breath and turned to her friend.

"Charlie, I have something I need to show you," She said quickly and maybe just a touch too loud. Charlie looked stunned; it was the first things she'd really said since they'd left the Burrow.

Amelia reached into her pocket and pulled out a small badge. Charlie let her drop it into his hand and read the words "Head Girl" over the crest of Gryffindor.

Charlie looked up at her with eyes alight.

"This is great, Ames!" Charlie said happily. He moved forward slightly and pulled her into a tight hug. "I knew you'd get it, what did I tell you? This'll look great when you're trying to get in at Gringotts next year. Knowing Bill won't hurt but this will really mean-"

"I'm quitting quidditch," she blurted out.

Amelia had never actually seen someone jaw drop until now.

"Tha's not funny, Amelia," he said quietly.

"I'm not joking, Charlie," she said, looking out to the pond. She grabbed the badge out of his hand and put it back in her pocket, her arms instinctively crossing over her chest. "I- I can't do it all. Quidditch, Head Girl duties, and making sure I keep my grades up? I just… can't do it. I have to think about my future. And I'm not trying out for the British league anytime soon. So quidditch had to go."

"But," Charlie had started to turn an unflattering shade of red, "But this is a commitmentwe made, Amelia. We always said, seventh year would be our year. We had it all planned. We've been working on this team – we've got a chance at the cup!"

Charlie was looking at her as if she'd gone mad. "Charlie, I understand. And I love quidditch but… this is the right thing. It wouldn't be fair to stay on the team and not be able to give you the full support you need and stay on top of everything else. I just can't."

His expression turned stony. He pulled himself up to his full height, chest puffed out, "Okay then. You've obviously been thinking about this for a while. It would have been nice if, you know, you would have shared that bit of information though. How long have you been planning this? Since last year when you knew you'd probably get Head Girl? Or earlier? Or did you not actually put any thought into this at all?!" Charlie was yelling by the end of his speech, red up to the tips of his ears.

Amelia could feel tears prickle the corner of her eyes, "Charlie, please. I – I don't know. I had maybe thought on it last year? But I didn't know what I would do until the badge came a couple days ago."

"You're pathetic," he spit out. And that hurt worse than if he'd hauled back and slapped her. "You're one of the best witches in our year and you're going to tell me that you can't handle a little schedule management? If you're going to lie, at least make it a little stronger than that one, Ames."

"Lie? Charlie, I'm not li-"

"You're just tired of it. I get it. It was fun for a while but it's not what you need to get to the next step," his eyes had narrowed at her. "Merlin, are you sure you don't belong in Slytherin? How long have you been planning this?"

Amelia went to say his name but felt a lump in her throat, making it impossible to say anything. She turned and ran towards the Burrow.

She wouldn't let him see her cry. He'd seen it plenty of times before – for multiple different reasons. He'd seen her cry tears of joy after winning the cup second year. He'd seen her cry angry tears when Snape had unfairly failed one of her essays. He'd seen her cry out of grief when she got a letter from home letting her know the passing of cousin she'd grown up with and was close to. He'd even let her cry on his shoulder that time while he rubbed her back, telling her everything was going to be fine. But she wasn't going to let him see her cry because of him.

She ran past a questioning Mrs. Weasley and confused younger Weasley's. She grabbed a pinch of Floo powder, stood in the fireplace, and shouted the name for her home. The last glimpse of the Burrow she had held the figure of an angry Charlie Weasley glowering at her from the door she'd just run through.