Title: Amelioration
Summary: They weren't allowed to be children. Celebrities from birth, the aftermath of a war-stricken generation. They were expected to be better. / They were supposed to heal the world. But how could they when they were just children?
Warnings: Mentions of drug use, suicide attempts, murder, sex, cigarettes, and a few swears
A/N: Amelioration means to make something better, and that's what I think the Next Gen kids are supposed to do; make the Wizarding World a better place. I mean, within my storylines they don't because I feel like it's far too unrealistic with their families being so messed up after the war, but I feel like regardless, they're still supposed to heal everything again.
They were pranksters. Just like their namesakes.
Right from the age of three.
They threw spiders at their siblings and cousins. Their mothers yelled.
(They giggled and were forgiven within seconds.)
They were eight when they corrupted poor little seven-year-old Louis.
They were the next Marauders, and Uncle George said so, choking as he stared at his son with a mournful look.
They stole Nana's wand and showered the whole kitchen with confetti. Oh, she yelled.
(Uncle Fred would be proud)
They were eleven when they slipped a tarantula into Vic's trunk. They hated her. Icky Vicky. Auntie Fleur yelled loudest.
They corrupted Nikki and Roxy when they got to Hogwarts. But Nikki went to Hufflepuff so that didn't last long.
(She tried to hang herself at twelve years old)
They were fourteen when Roxy stopped being so childish. Boys were much more interesting.
They were fifteen when James convinced Freddie to start smoking and drinking. After all, little twelve-year-old Al was doing it, and Nikki has for years.
(Freddie became Fred)
They started fucking anyone they could. James went through all the fourth and fifth and sixth-year girls in their house. Fred went through half the guys and most of the Hufflepuff girls.
(Little Nikki is still a lonely alcoholic)
They were still fifteen when Nikki tried jumping off the Astronomy tower. Her art was all blood red, and she carved her skin up, screaming about fairytales and love and cigarettes.
She obsessed about Wonderland. Alice and tea parties and talking rabbits and everyone's mad here.
(She's not Nikki anymore. Dom suits her better.)
They were sixteen when Louis got wasted and flung himself off a bridge. Fred found him, broken and bleeding. They cried. They don't know how he lived. It was a fucking miracle.
They forgot about him for too long and he went crazy.
(He's too insane to die.)
The were seventeen when they started smoking weed. They got it from their baby cousin Hugo. Then Fred started on heroine. Mummy nearly kicked him out.
(They didn't stop until Dom ended up in the hospital from an overdose)
They were eighteen when Dom overdosed over summer break. Tina screamed at them for hours, even told Hermione about Hugo's drugs. He got sent to his muggle grandparents' for the rest of the summer.
They stopped the drugs and the drinking. They couldn't do that anymore. Not after one of their own nearly died.
(Louis never really did count.)
They were twenty when Auntie Angelina and George were murdered on the street, right in front of poor Fred. It took him two weeks to track down the murderers, ripping out their hearts, torturing them like a muggle. Because magic was easier to trace, so of course he wouldn't use unforgivables.
It was all hushed up, trying to preserve the family name.
(He never was the same again.)
By the time they were twenty-three, they were all married; Roxy even had kids.
They were tired. Far too young to be this mature. They should be out drinking and partying and having the time of their lives. Not working desk jobs and trying to stop their cousins from killing themselves.
They dragged Hugo and Lucy and Louis and Dom to rehab and shoved Lily and Al and Rosie in therapy.
(James is trying to hold them together.)
They weren't allowed to be children. Celebrities from birth, the aftermath of a war-stricken generation. They were expected to be better.
Innocence? That was gone the second they stepped foot in their dorms.
Everyone thought they were selfish, never caring for others because they never came to the rescue of others. But that was because they were too busy trying to hold together their family. Trying to stop their little cousins from offing themselves. Trying to stop them from going insane.
It didn't work most of the time.
(After all, twelve years old is too young to die.)
They were supposed to heal the world.
But how could they when they were just children? They couldn't make the world a better place. Not yet.
Maybe next time.
Maybe the next generation.
If they're careful, their children will be better.
Maybe they will heal the world.
Maybe they won't go insane.
Maybe.
Probably not.
Weasleys and Potters just aren't meant to heal the world. They just had to save it.
A/N: Dunno how I feel about this one, I wasn't sure if it's too vague. Let me know if you need clarification about anything, and I might expand on bits and pieces through writing drabbles.
Let me know what you think!
Thanks!
AuroraWeasley