Hi everyone, this is my first fic under this account but I've written here before. If I get good responses for this story, I'll probably write corresponding stories for each HP book. So review please! I know not everyone likes OC's but hopefully if it's well-written you will anyway (:
Chapter 1: Summer at the Burrow
Ellie was supposed to spend the summer with a family called the Weasleys. She had never met them, and knew nothing about them except that they were a wizarding family. Her choice was simple: stay home for the summer and go to public school the next year, or leave home and go to wizarding school. She wanted to go to wizarding school, but she wanted to stay home this summer.
She wanted Hogwarts more.
"I'm sorry," her mother said distractedly when Ellie confronted her. "You know I can't take care of you this summer. If I get promoted, I'll be working in offices with the Prime Minister… this summer opportunity could be great for me. Anyway, the Weasleys are great people."
Ellie wasn't sure if they were. Her mother had decent taste in friends, though a little dull, but these were friends from before that. They were old friends of her father's, and her father wasn't around anymore.
He was in prison.
"So, if I did to the wizarding world," Ellie said carefully, "and spend my summer with magic, d'you reckon it would be near—"
"Don't," her mother interrupted, "talk about that place."
Ellie crossed her arms. She had been planning to say 'Azkaban,' but her mother treated the name as badly as saying 'Voldemort.' All Ellie knew about her father was that he was imprisoned to the worst prison in the world when she was about two years old, and that he was the namesake of her awful name, Bretherworth; his first name was Andrew. She remembered living with him and not her mother, but that was it. Nothing more.
"It's not like they have visiting hours at Azkaban, anyway," her mother told her with a yawn. "But don't worry—the Weasleys will be a lot of fun."
"Why can't I just stay with you?" Ellie demanded. "I'll stay at a friend's house, even. Why do I have to go?"
Her mother faced her tiredly. "If you want to give up Hogwarts, you can stay as long as you want."
It was hopeless. Ellie had no plans to give up Hogwarts. The two years she lived with her father, she'd had magic, and she remembered it. Serena, her mother, who was once a powerful witch, became a Muggle, grew to work in regular politics, and shielded her daughter from magic. But Ellie still heard things sometimes, letters fluttering in from owls or newspapers dropping by anonymously. Ellie always kept an eye out for information about Azkaban, and especially about Hogwarts.
And then the letter came, and more than anything Ellie wanted to go. And even though her mother hated magic for what it did to her father, she agreed. Reluctantly.
And this summer was Ellie's punishment.
She arrived in a Muggle car after a long car drive in which she strummed tirelessly on her guitar. It was an electric, but without an amp it sounded pathetic. Her mother's reactions weren't very comforting, but Ellie didn't care; she loved playing the guitar and jamming more than almost anything else.
They pulled up to the house and stayed in the car for a minute, staring wordlessly at it.
"They call it the Burrow," her mother offered. "Very interesting, isn't it? So tall, much taller than it is wide… quite an architectural work…"
Ellie could tell her mother was searching for good points. She sighed and locked her guitar back into its case, pulled out her trunk, and closed the door behind her. As soon as they made the sound, a pretty, plump red-haired woman ran outside.
She didn't look anything like Ellie's mother, or her type. Ellie's parents were both good-looking (or had been; her mother had gradually become lank and tired-looking): dark, nearly black hair, pale skin, and striking eyes. Her father's had been brown; her mother's were gray. She'd gotten her mother's. But nothing about their appearances matched this woman, who looked much nicer than Ellie's mother did, in all honesty.
"Serena, so good to see you again," the woman gushed. "It's been far too long."
Ellie's mother nodded a little uncomfortably. Clearly they weren't the best of friends. "Thanks for doing this, Molly," Serena said politely. "Really. Ellie needs to get to know magic again, and I'll just be so busy at work…"
"That reminds me," Molly said, "Arthur was wondering if you could do him a huge favor. He's been having raids at the Ministry all week, and—"
"I really can't," Serena interrupted. "I am sorry, but I covered for you in the old days, and it never worked."
Molly bit her lip and glanced at the ground for a second. Ellie knew what this was about: Molly's husband probably worked for the Ministry of Magic, and the best way to cover up a problem was to have inside help from Muggle government.
Clearly the guilt trip worked; Serena sighed and let out a small smile. "All right, I'll talk to them and see what I can do, okay?"
Molly beamed. "Thank you, thank you," she said graciously. "Arthur's just inside, I'll just help Ellie bring in her things." She smiled for the first time at Ellie, who managed a small smile back.
"Uh, I prefer Ellie," Ellie said meekly.
"Of course, of course," Molly said, nodding and taking her trunk from her, wincing momentarily at the weight. "Now, you'll be sharing a room with Ginny, if that's all right. Sorry, no spare rooms, and all the others are boys, so…"
"That's fine," Ellie assured her, and followed her inside.
It was nothing like what she'd expected. It was cluttered, of course, but not of trash. Everywhere she looked, she saw something she couldn't possibly have expected; it was like she'd gone from a black-and-white thirties flick to a futuristic, technicolor movie. It was incredible.
"It's not much," Molly admitted when she saw Ellie's expression. "Probably not as nice as your home, but we get by."
Ellie had been planning on being cold her first few days, but those thoughts left her. "It's amazing."
Molly flushed. "Oh, such a sweet girl, I knew you'd be… All right, over here, I think Ginny'll be with the twins…" She stopped at the end of the hall and opened a door to a cluttered, cozy room with a great window view, posters littering the walls, and a comfortable-looking bed with a cot next to it.
Inside it were three people. One was a girl, just a bit younger than Ellie, with short, cute red hair and freckles. With her were two twins, both with long red hair and goofy expressions, much taller than either of the girls.
"Ellie, this is Ginny, Fred, and George," Molly introduced.
"Hi," Ginny said sweetly.
"Hey," George greeted, nodding at her.
"Oi," Fred said, and randomly offered her a high-five. It was so lame that it was cute, so she slapped it less hard than she usually did but hard enough to count.
"Ron's upstairs, and Percy will be studying," Molly explained. "You'll be spending your summer with us."
Life at the Weasleys got into a nice routine very quickly. Ginny was one of the most nice and courteous girls Ellie had ever met, and Fred and George the funniest guys. She didn't like Percy much, but she wasn't alone there, and Ron seemed like a great friend. Molly and Arthur treated her like a daughter.
Tonight, her fourth night at the Weasleys, was probably the first night Ellie really felt comfortable on her cot; comfortable enough, at least, to talk to Ginny about more than clothes and wands.
"Ginny?" she asked quietly. It was already dark, but she doubted she was asleep.
"Hm?" Ginny asked, rolling over and facing her.
Ellie ran a hand through her thin, dark hair before she spoke. "I get it if you don't know anything. But did your parents ever tell you anything about my dad?"
Ginny was silent for several moments before she spoke. "No," she said, and Ellie's face fell in the darkness. But then Ginny added, "But Fred and George did."
Ellie coughed out loud. "What?"
"It's not like they knew anything," Ginny said quickly, "but they have a knack for listening in on Mum and Dad, if you know what I mean. Anyway, they overheard them talking about your dad a few nights before you got here, and they told me. Why?"
"I don't really know anything about him," Ellie said quietly. "I was hoping you might. I get the impression your parents were friends with him, not my mum."
"Were," Ginny agreed. "I guess not anymore. They—er—were saying he did some pretty bad stuff." Her face was turning red; this was clearly not her comfort subject.
"Like what?" Ellie demanded. She could take it if he did bad things; she just wanted to know what.
"Like… what anybody did at that time." Ginny shrugged. "You know, worked for V… well, You-Know-Who." Her voice was getting soft and low, like she was breaking laws by talking about this. She seemed rather excited. Ellie couldn't help but notice the year between them felt a lot bigger.
"He did?" Ellie breathed. She'd always feared it.
"I think so. You know, killed people, what they call a Death Eater, I think. Fred tried to figure out who he could be, but there were so many Death Eaters locked up around then, he couldn't tell."
Ellie sighed. She was glad to know a little more, but it wasn't helping much; all she'd really heard was that her father had worked for Voldemort. She'd assumed that, even if she hadn't been told it directly.
"I'm really sorry," Ginny said again. "Just so you know, our parents don't mistrust you, or anything. They think your mum did a good job with you. Though they are a little worried you're too sad."
Ellie shrugged. "I'm not that sad. I was a quiet kid, and it's awkward going from that to a preteen." She grinned and held up a string of her hair that she'd streaked silver. "Clearly I'm not too sad."
Ginny giggled. "I noticed that the other day. Why'd you do it?"
Ellie shrugged, rolling over again. "Dunno, really. Just hated blending in, I guess."
The problem was, she hated standing out, too.
She didn't really get to know the boys until about three weeks in. She and Ginny were close, but she kept her distance from the other boys. She was too young to flirt with them but too old to not feel a little out of ease around them; for her own comfort, she stayed away. She was prettier than she felt comfortable with, but she'd never done anything about it. Her looks just were, just existed on the exterior of a soul that didn't suit them.
It was the third week when they'd suggested Quidditch. She'd seen the twins and Ron through Ginny's window a few times, but she hadn't really noticed much except that they were on broomsticks… which, really, was plenty as it was.
"Ellie, you, too," Fred said when he saw her in the hallway. "Don't worry, we can teach you."
She didn't know what to say, so she followed them outside into the shed, where Fred handed her a beat-up but still surprisingly magic-looking broomstick.
"It's Percy's," he explained. "The wanker thinks he's too good for brooms now."
She laughed a little and accepted it, following him aside. She glanced behind, but Ginny, Ron, and George were already mounting their brooms. Apparently Fred was her decided teacher.
"Flying's the most amazing thing ever," he explained when she caught up to him. "Nothing like it. You'll thank me for teaching you."
She stayed quiet; she didn't really know what to say.
"So, put your broom on the ground first, just in front of you." He demonstrated.
She grinned and did the same. "Am I going to have to squat, or something? Because I thought the idea was to fly the broom…"
He grinned, too, and shook his head. "Cool Quidditch strategy," he explained, and stuck out a hand. "What you are about to see may shock you," he warned, and turned to the broom. "Up!"
The broom flew up, and he caught it with one hand. "Eh?"
She knew her eyes had widened substantially. She just hadn't been expecting it. "Whoa," she managed. "That was… weird."
He laughed. "Not really. You're not a Muggle, right?"
She shook her head. "No, but I didn't grow up with magic." He knew that, didn't he?
"Right." She could tell the realization was coming back to him, but he didn't say anything about it. "Well, you'll get used to it, especially when you get to jinx the Slytherins."
"Slytherins?" she asked.
"One of the houses. The worst. C'mon, don't stall, I'll explain later. Up it already."
She smiled and stuck a hand out. "Up," she said. The broom didn't move. She hung her head in shame for a second before glancing at him.
"'S no big deal," he assured her. "You haven't even learned magic yet, I doubted you'd get it on your first try. Just say it with more emotion, like it's a pet dog you can't stand, or something."
She grinned again and stuck out her hand. "Up," she said more forcefully. It hovered in the air for a second and dropped. She rolled her eyes, annoyed, and shouted, "UP!"
It zoomed up so fast that it stung when she caught it. She dropped it in pain.
"Ow!" she shrieked. "Bloody hell, can I just pick it up?"
Fred was cracking up at this point. He nodded and waited for her to do so before mounting his own. "Okay, straddle it and keep your feet on the ground. When I say go, kick off with your feet. Steer like a Segway—Dad told me abut those—with your body. Pull back to go up, push down to go down. Lean forward going up, lean back going down. And if—"
"You teach slow," she announced, and kicked off.
He chuckled and did the same. In seconds she was accelerating, blowing into the wind and across their small field, Fred trailing just behind her. And he was right: there was nothing like it.
They played Quidditch every day for the next week, and before she knew it, half of Ellie's summer had passed. It was definitely not what she had expected: even if Molly had her washing dishes and dusting, it was more exciting than any of her days back home. Magic wasn't something she got used to; it was something she was shocked by over and over again, and Quidditch was the best part—especially with Fred.
Ginny was still close with her, and they'd gotten past small talk completely. They couldn't always talk about Ellie's dad, because there wasn't always much to say. But Ginny was always ready to complain about Ron or ask about normal government, and Ellie had a million and one questions about magic.
Ellie was getting over her boy discomfort easily, at least with the twins. She and Fred had already passed it, and when you befriend one twin, you befriend the other. Fred had a distinctive freckle on his nose that made it easy to tell them apart, though it was a bit awkward for the first minute or two she scanned his nose.
Percy was still Percy, which left Ron as the only of the four she hadn't really talked to. The Wednesday that signified her break was halfway up, Molly had them both prepare lunch for the family, which gave them time to talk. As with his brothers, it began uncomfortably and then rolled smoothly.
"So," Ellie said as they pulled out the bread for sandwiches, "er, sorry if it seems like I'm avoiding you. I've actually been meaning to spend some time with you"—this had sounded better in her head—"but, you know, Fred and George are always around."
He laughed. "No, it's cool," he assured her. "Meals and Quidditch are plenty. You make a wicked Chaser, by the way. Maybe you should try for the team."
Quite honestly, she had considered it. "I think I'll wait and see when I get to Hogwarts," she decided. "Are you going to?"
"Nah. I'm not much of a Keeper, and that's all I'm interested in, anyway. I'm really excited about Hogwarts in general, though. And we'll be in the same year."
She smiled and nodded, not really wanting to think about it. Ginny wasn't even going with her to Hogwarts, and Fred and George, who she really liked, were two years ahead of her. All the more reason to talk to Ron. "It'll be great, I'm sure," she agreed. "Mum didn't really want me to go, but I say it'll be worth it."
"Definitely. Have you heard of the headmaster?"
She spread peanut butter and some strange kind of jam onto one of the sandwiches. "I think so. Isn't his name Albus something?"
"Dumbledore," Ron said, and nodded. "Fred and George break his rules a lot, so I don't imagine he likes them all that much. But Bill and Charlie always said great things about him."
"He's old, then?" she assumed. She knew Bill and Charlie were much older than Ron.
He grinned. "Yeah. You've been paying attention to the Weasley tree, have you?"
She laughed. "Sometimes. Too big for me to memorize, though."
He was silent for a second, which she'd noticed in this house indicated either a change of topic or a need to bring up something important. His was the former. "So you brought a guitar, right?" he asked as he screwed the jam cap back on and sliced the seven sandwiches.
She reached for the crisps and nodded. "Yeah, why?"
"Well, Ginny's quite obsessed with wizarding bands, like the Weird Sisters and such. I think they use guitars. She'd love it if you showed it to her. You know, helped her use it a bit?"
Ellie smiled. "Sure. That's sweet—you're looking out for her?"
"Actually, one time I promised I'd be famous and introduce her to their lead singer, but since that'll never happen, I figured this would be a nice backup."
Ellie laughed. "Nice."
He nodded in agreement and took a handful of crisps to spill onto his plate. She did the same for the others.
"If you're not practicing because of us, you should reconsider," he said. "Ginny'd love to hear you play. Mum and Dad wouldn't mind the noise, and I bet Fred and George would even be quiet for more than five minutes."
She laughed and took two plates over to the table. He did the same, and they repeated the process for the other three. "Maybe I will. It's a bit awkward, you know? But nothing seems out of the question in this family."
She ended up getting it out a few nights later with Ginny, who looked thrilled. "I've never seen a real one before!" Ginny squealed. "The Weird Sisters use spells to hover the guitar and change the sound vibes and stuff—I reckon a lot of their sound's conjured and not played, but it's still great to listen to."
"I don't have the luxury of magic when I play," Ellie admitted, "but it's still nice. Would you mind if I plugged in my amp, you know, softly?"
"Plugged in?" Ginny repeated. "Like an outlet?"
Ellie nodded.
"That's a Muggle thing," Ginny explained. "Dad told me about it. We don't have that here… I'm sure I can get him to conjure something, though. I'll be right back."
When she came back, it was not only with a strange-looking outlet but also with her mum, dad, twin brothers, and Ron. Ellie sat rigid the second they walked into the small room.
"I didn't know you could play," Molly said excitedly. "I'd just love to hear something."
Ellie rubbed an eye, glad she didn't have to worry about eyeliner; her silver eyes stood out enough on their own. "Um," she said, "I don't really play for audiences, it's more just for fun…"
"Well, I'm staying," Fred said, kicking off his shoes and plopping down a little unnervingly close to her.
"Me too," George agreed, and sat in Ginny's desk chair. Everyone else stayed leaning against the walls. Ron gave Ellie an encouraging smile, and Ellie reminded herself to help Ginny with it later.
"Okay," Ellie said, "um, I guess I'll play Wonderwall, it's one of my favourites."
No one recognized the name—she hadn't expected them to—so she went ahead and strummed. She sang the words in her shower, but she wasn't about to sing them here; the guitar tune was catchy enough. She added a few slurs and accents to make it edgy, and halfway through the song, she had already gone from rigid to rocking.
Music wasn't just notes to her, as cliché as it sounded. It was a whole other world, where she could warp away from everything and everyone else and be safe, secure, and free. Even when she was a kid, she remembered singing show tunes with her father; as she grew older, she spent all her money emptying record stores of all classics anyone had ever suggested, from Pink Floyd to Barry Manilow. Music had become her passion.
She finished the song with some extra strumming, and didn't look up for several seconds. When she did, it was to pleasantly surprised faces.
"I didn't know that was doable without magic," Molly said interestedly. "That was a very nice song. What did you say it was called?"
"Wonderwall," Ellie replied. "The lyrics are really nice, but I don't really sing…"
"We need to start a band," Fred announced. Everyone's heads whipped around to look at him, and he said with a shrug, "I dunno, I think it'd be cool."
"I'm in it," Ginny and George said at the same time. Ron shrugged and shook his head.
Arthur chuckled and took his wife by the arm. "We'll see you kids in the morning," he said, and they left. Ron raised his eyebrows and followed.
"What's our name?" Ginny asked enthusiastically once George shut the door.
"What're our instruments?" George asked, laughing. "Besides Ellie on guitar, none of us really know anything. Drums look easy. I think."
Ellie shook her head. "Nah, my friend played them, they're actually pretty hard."
"Okay, well, I'll work at it," George said cheerfully.
"I'll do bass," Ginny offered hopefully. "I hear it's not too hard."
"Okay." Ellie still wasn't sure what she thought about being in a wizarding band, especially with a girl she wouldn't see for a year, but she was glad for the idea. "Fred?"
He shrugged. "Singer?"
She laughed. "Okay, let's hope you don't suck."
He faked upset as they gathered their things to get ready for bed.
Ellie couldn't sleep that night—she wasn't sure why. It might have been because of good things, or maybe because her mother hadn't written to her all summer. Or maybe it was just tension. But for whatever reason, at about two in the morning, she crept out of her room and outside.
She found a bench that she recognized as Mrs. Weasley's garden seat and sat down. She hugged her legs to her chest and stared up at the sky. It was beautiful—something about the air out here was nothing like her home back in Manchester.
She didn't know how long she'd sat there before she realized how cold it was. It was a hot summer day, but apparently that didn't apply in the dead of night. She sighed and got back up, making her way only half-awake back into the building and planning on retrieving a sweatshirt from her trunk. She stopped short when she reached the kitchen and found herself facing Fred.
He was munching on a cold sub sandwich and looked up at her in surprise, a bit of lettuce hanging out of the side of his mouth.
"Hi," she managed.
He munched up the rest and smiled back at her. "Hi," he replied. "What were you doing outside?"
"The bench," she replied uncertainly, cocking her head back outside. "It's nice. Sorry, I couldn't sleep… didn't wake you up, did I?"
He shook his head. "Nah, I come down for subs a lot in the dead of night. Love George to death, but sometimes I gotta have something of my own."
She'd always wondered when that would pop up. She hadn't believed he was perfectly okay with being George's identical twin in heart, mind, and soul—not to mention speech and acts.
"You going back to bed?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I was gonna get a jacket and go back out. It's a nice night, just a bit cold."
"Cool, I'll join you," he offered easily, then added quickly, "That is, if you want me to… I can make you a sub," he added, holding up his.
She smiled; she couldn't help it. He was so cute and dorky. "I'm a vegetarian," she reminded him: she'd been a problem for the Weasleys all summer. "But sure, you can join me."
"Cool," he said again, and grinned cutely at her as she headed upstairs for her bag. She laughed and made her way silently to Ginny's room, where she grabbed an old sweatshirt and pulled it on. When she came back downstairs, he had a sub in his hand.
"Veggie patty," he explained. "Ginny asks for them sometimes."
She smiled, honestly touched, and accepted it. She was a kid with no experience with guys, and she knew Fred was too old for her—thirteen to her eleven, which didn't sound like much but was something. She followed him out to the bench, where she sat next to him, noticing how it wasn't as big as she thought.
She was worried it would be awkward, but he smoothed it out for her.
"Mum's taking us shopping in Diagon Alley in a few weeks," he said. "You could get an owl—"
"Really?" she interrupted excitedly, with a grin.
He laughed. "Yeah, your mum probably left you with money for one. And you have to get a wand. Excited?"
"And freaked out. Seriously, I don't know anything about spells or magic. At least you and Ron grew up with it. What am I supposed to expect?"
He shrugged. "To be taught. You don't have to learn anything before you meet the professors—that's what they're there for."
She sighed. "You're probably right."
"Always am," he reminded her with a smirk.
"Oh, lay off, you can't be as funny without George. Admit it."
He pouted, clearly not in the mood to be proven not funny. "I can be funny," he said in his defense, "whenever I want. So what if I try to be serious?"
"Okay, fine, let's be serious." She took a deep breath—she was ready to be really serious. "Have you ever eavesdropped on your parents talking about mine?"
He looked down at her uncertainly. She looked right back.
He sighed. "Yeah. How'd you know?"
"Ginny."
He muttered something about teaching her something, and then said, "Yeah, before you came, they talked about your mum and dad a lot. I don't think they like your mum much, honestly."
"Yeah." She didn't really care. "But what about him?"
"Look, I get that you want to know about your dad…" He looked pained. "But it's not going to be good. Some people are bad people, and it doesn't make you a bad person, but you can't hope he's good. You've just got to let go of that."
"I'll think what I want," she said stiffly.
He could tell he'd hit a nerve, and she was glad. "Okay," he said. "Okay, I know. Sorry."
"So? Did they say anything useful or not?"
"Not really. Just that they were friends with him, you know, before. Really good friends. And not just with them. Look, are you sure you want to hear this? Because it's not—"
"I do," she said quickly.
"Okay… well, apparently he was part of this group of people who worked with Dumbledore, Hogwarts's headmaster. I'm not sure what they were, but they… fought You-Know-Who. And he double-crossed them."
She frowned. Honestly, she had been hoping for some good news. But he was right: there was no point in hoping, because what good could come of learning more and more about her father, who was clearly evil?
"We should play Quidditch tomorrow," Fred announced.
She let herself smile. "Let's play right now." And they mounted their brooms and played a one-on-one game, the best she'd played yet.
They spent the rest of the summer playing Quidditch and playing in their band. George managed to convince his dad to charm a lot of pots and pans to convert to a drum set, and Mr. Weasley also changed a weird stick-like object into a bass for Ginny. They worked well, and with Ellie's real guitar, they sounded good.
On about their fourth practice ('practice' being a loose word for 'learning'), Ginny brought up the fact that they didn't have a band name.
Fred glanced at Ellie for a response. He'd spent several more dark nights with her outside on the bench since the last, and each time they spoke less of her father and more of things that mattered in the present. Ellie didn't have a crush on him, really—she considered him one of her best friends. George, too, had been great.
"What about the Weasleys?" she asked hopefully.
"But that doesn't make sense," George replied. "We are the Weasleys, except you."
"Right, but you said some people think down on you because you're Weasleys, right?" Ellie asked. "Well, why not become a legend and prove them wrong? Let people be respectful when they mention the Weasleys."
"But what about you?" Ginny asked. "You're not a Weasley."
Ellie grinned. "Might as well be."
