A/N: I don't own anything. Please leave a review!
Chapter 1
"Uggggghhhhh."
Sandy Weasley slumped down onto her bed, sweaty and exhausted after a full day of Quidditch practice.
"Get up, love," Ron said, poking her in the side. "You know I hate it when the bed starts to smell like sweat."
Groaning, she pulled herself into a seated position. "I'm bloody tired," she moaned. "Hammers works us likes dogs! And we're just the reserves!"
"Well, I expect we'll be starting for the Cannons soon enough," Ron told her encouragingly. "Thompson is about to retire and- what's that one Chaser's name?- Grisham, is it? Is so abysmal that Hammers simply can't afford to keep either of us in the reserves for long. Buck up, love." He kissed her sweetly on the cheek.
"You're right," she mumbled, but she sighed heavily.
It was November, over two months since Harry and Hermione had departed for their teaching posts at Hogwarts. Sandy and Ron were living in the apartment by themselves now and had started training daily with the Chudley Cannons.
Sandy Weasley felt like there was something missing.
She supposed she should be used to the feeling by now, but she had assumed that once Voldemort was gone, her depression conquered, her love life set in stone, and her career begun she would feel some sense of… satisfaction. Instead, she felt as though her life were in a standstill. As though she were frozen in time, going nowhere, getting nothing done.
She missed her brother terribly. She had never been apart from him for this long, and she longed for his company. Sandy and Harry exchanged owls almost every free moment of the day, and sometimes even in the ridiculous hours of the night, if Harry could sneak out of Hermione's watchful eye to the owlery.
Her job was nowhere near as spectacular as she had expected it to be. When she had been drafted by the Cannons, she had been expecting… more than this. She had not expected to immediately start for the team, but she at least expected some decent level of respect from her fellow teammates. She was the only woman on the team, and, according to Ron, she was the first woman to play for the Cannons in thirty years. None of the men, with the exception of Ron, showed her any respect whatsoever. To top it all off, Coach Hammers insisted on working them like dogs despite the fact that they were the newest reserves and it seemed unlikely, whatever Ron thought, that they would be starting anytime soon.
She just felt as though, after all she had been through and all she had accomplished, she had no idea where her life was going now.
The only thing she was sure of was Ron. She involuntarily smiled as she thought happily of the freedom that they now had together. Conditioning for the Cannons was everyday from seven to eleven in the morning. Afterwards, they would do whatever they wanted, which usually involved lunch, a short nap, then a quick trip somewhere in London.
"Sandy, did you hear me?" Ron asked, snapping her out of her reverie.
"Huh?" she said, shaking herself. "No, sorry. What'd you say?"
"I said, 'Do you want the shower first?'" he repeated, a bemused smile playing on his lips.
"Sure, thanks," she said, smiling at him.
"After we both take our showers, we can go grab some lunch, then we need to go get some groceries."
"Groceries?" she echoed, confused. "Why do need groceries? We usually eat out."
"George is coming for dinner, remember?" he reminded her patiently. "You promised him you'd cook for him?"
Realization flashed across her face. "Shit!" She stripped off her Quidditch robes and sprinted into the bathroom, leaving a very amused Ron in her wake.
DDDDDD
Ding-dong!
"Ron, watch this for me for a moment and make sure it doesn't burn while I get the door, okay?" Sandy said quickly.
"Sure thing, love," he said, stepping in front of the stove and watching the pepper steak in the pan intently.
She chuckled to herself as she made her way from the kitchen to the entrance hall. Opening the door, she revealed a very flustered and frustrated looking Ginny, supporting a very nauseous and drunk looking George. "Merlin," Sandy breathed, stepping forward and taking George from Ginny, slinging his arm around her shoulders. She nearly buckled under his weight, but she managed to steady herself as she asked, "What happened?"
"I don't know!" Ginny snapped. "I walked into his room to remind him that he was going to your place for dinner, and I found him passed out on his bed, like this, puke all over the floor! It was disgusting!" She inhaled deeply. "Look, I'm sorry to snap at you, but… Neville and I… we're getting married next month. You know that. I can't… I can't be taking care of my wreck of an older brother all the time."
Sandy stared at her dumbly for a moment. He's your brother! He's your family! She wanted to scream. You should want to take care of him!
Instead, all she said was, "Ginny… we've got a guest room here, and Harry's and Hermione's room is empty as long as they're at Hogwarts. He can live with us."
Ginny's face brightened. "Do you mean it, Sandy?"
"Yeah, yeah, I mean it," she sighed, hoisting George up a little more.
"Thanks, thanks so much!" Ginny squealed, hugging Sandy tightly, nearly knocking her and George over. "Why don't you just have him Apparate back to the Burrow and get his things when he's sober? You are the best sister-in-law ever!"
When Ginny had gone, Sandy kicked the door shut and began heaving him toward the guest room. "Sandy?" Ron called from the kitchen. "Is pepper steak supposed to be black and smell like smoke?"
"Galloping gargoyles!" she yelped, dropping George onto the floor unceremoniously. "No! Ron, you were supposed to keep it from burning!" She hastily turned off the stove and turned on the vent of the microwave, hoping the smoke detector would not go off.
"Yes, well… I didn't know how to turn the stove off," he admitted sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I'm sure George won't mind if we take him out to dinner."
"About that…" Sandy said, taking him by the hand and leading him into the entrance hall, where George was passed out in a heap on their floor. "Ginny brought him here. She found him passed out, drunk, in his room, surrounded by his own vomit. She… she says she can't take care of him anymore, what with her and Neville getting married next month and all."
The resulting blue streak that erupted from Ron's mouth was long enough to turn into a novel. "That little bitch," he exclaimed finally. "She agreed to take care of George until Charlie could transfer back to England!" He sighed, and glanced down at his older brother. "What are we going to do? Take him to Shell Cottage and ask Bill and Fleur to look after him?"
"Actually…" Sandy said, somewhat hesitantly. She wasn't sure how her husband would react to the next thing she would say. "I told Ginny he could live here with us. We do have that empty guest room."
"Sandy…"
"Hear me out," she began eagerly. "George and I have gotten really close since you and I graduated, as you know, because I understand the connection he had with Fred, because that's what I have with Harry. I can sympathize with him. And you and I have a healthy thing going here. And we'll have a lot of time for him, because the only thing we have to do everyday is training, and that's only for four hours! I think this would be really good for him. Then, we can help him get back on his feet. Get him a job, a girlfriend, a life… I've been where he is before, and it's horrible. But I know how to get back."
Ron smiled sideways at his wife. "I was going to say, 'I think that's a fucking great idea,' but thanks for justifying it anyway." He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips. "Come on, let's get him in bed."
DDDDDD
Ron and Sandy were sitting in bed, Sandy reading a book and Ron watching the television (conveniently the first Muggle device that he had learned to operate), when a sudden tapping at the window startled them. Sandy nearly flew out of bed in excitement when she realized that an owl was tapping on their window, a letter clutched in its beak. "Excellent!" she said cheerily, throwing open the window and letting the owl in. "Harry must have snuck into the owlery!" Taking the letter from the owl, she ripped open the letter enthusiastically and read:
Dear Sandy,
Things are going pretty well here. Teaching classes is much better than I expected. The students are great (for the most part, there are a few twats here that fancy themselves familiar enough with me to call me Harry rather than 'Professor'; don't worry though, I set them straight). It really is amazing to be doing something so worthwhile. I mean- our DADA education was so patchy. Lupin and fake-Moody were really the only good teachers. It's a surprise that we managed to survive at all, given what we had to do. But knowing that I can give these kids valuable, useful knowledge that could save their lives- it's an incredible feeling! We've saved lives before, but this is something entirely different. It's much better, no doubt about that. These kids needs to be prepared; Voldemort isn't the only evil wizard in the world. And I'm making sure that they will be.
Hermione is doing well, but if you want the details, you should write to her. I expect she'll be bloody hocked off if you don't. She hates it when I sneak out of our office late at night to send you letters, but I miss you terribly. So if I can manage it, I'll do it.
How are things with you and Ron? Is that arse Coach Hammers still working you to death? Are you settling into married life? I'm not sure you could call what the four of us had over the summer 'married life'; Hermione and I were almost always around. So are you enjoying your newfound time alone with your new husband? I do hope so, and I also hope that you are liking your job better.
How's George doing? You mentioned last time that he had been visiting you and Ron a lot, seeking comfort? You and I are the only twins he and Fred were really close to, so I expect he's looking for some insight from you. But I know you'll do all you can to help him. Let him know if you or George needs anything from me.
Finally, how is Ron? Is he being a prat to you? If he is, tell him I'll Apparate back from Hogwarts right now (as impossible as Hermione is always saying that is) and kick his arse. If not, tell that prat to write me. Hogwarts just isn't the same without him.
Write me back!
Love,
Harry
Sandy immediately began scripting her reply. When she had finished, she gave it to the owl, who took off into the night almost immediately. As she crawled back into bed, Ron remarked, "You really miss him, don't you?"
"Yeah," she said sadly. "I really do. It's been over two months since I last saw him."
"Well, maybe we can go visit him in Hogsmeade next month," Ron suggested, hoping that would cheer her up, as he slung his arm around her.
"Maybe," she said, sounding doubtful. "But that would be so close to Christmas, I don't really see the point." Sighing, she said, "Anyway, don't worry about it too much, Ronald. I'm fine. Really."
He looked at her doubtfully, but she flashed a fake smile at him. He leaned toward her and kissed her deeply, his hand wandering beneath her shirt and under the waistband of her pants. "Let me try to take your mind off Harry, eh?"