Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter 1: The Arrival
Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for a while, touch our hearts, and we are never, ever the same.
I don't know who introduced me to Fred Weasly. I do vaguely remember where, when, how and why. As a matter of fact I can't actually remember a time without Fred. It seems that, although we went to different wizarding schools, we have been together all our lives. I vaguely remember when I was introduced to Fred and his twin brother George.
I had just transferred from a school in Australia to England. I had finished my seventh year at school, and I was beginning to consider the possibilities of a wizarding university. Of course, my science area was more of a Muggle field than a wizarding one, but it didn't matter that much. I could still major in biogenetic science and be a wizard. Who said I couldn't? And being one of the most talented wizards in the country helped. I was able to summon things without a wand, I could perform many spells without my wand, and with excellent results with others' wands. It was at a party that I had met Fred and George. Of course, I had already noticed the twin beaters, stars of our University Quidditch team, but it didn't really matter to me. While my fellow freshman girlfriends swooned over Fred, George and Oliver Wood, another Quidditch figure at our school, I stayed indifferent. Wrapped up in my studies and classes. I had never really been interested in Quidditch. As a small person, I had focused on Gymnastics, and that was my sport for the year. Of course, the Uni didn't really have a proper gym team, so I went into the local village every week to practice.
It was at a party, Saturday night, after a victorious match. Disco lights, beer, alcoholic drinks by the dozen. I was sober, unfortunately, not half as much could have been said of my friends. Most of them were staggering about, asking people every-which-way to dance. I sat on my barstool wondering why I had even come. One of the more drunk girls in my class had hooked up with George, both he and Fred were partial to a little drink, and they were drunk as skunks. She had dragged George over, very pleased with her catch, Fred following. As I got up to leave, Fred promptly spilled a marguerite all over the front of my clothes. It wasn't like I cared, but I had been annoyed all night, and this was the last straw. I had studied self defense at various times during my life, and within a few moments Fred was sporting a black eye, groaning on the floor. Then, I left.
The next day passed with people giving me strange looks as I walked down the hallway. "Is she the one that gave poor Freddie a black eye?" "Yes! Really, I mean, how indecent, what if he can't fly for our next match…" "…what nerve, I heard that she's going to get suspended…". For all of Sunday I had not seen either Fred or George. I began to feel a little guilty, and, as I still had not seen them by the evening, I decided to go and apologize. And bring some of my hangover remedy with me. I carried the small green bottle to the house off-campus where Fred and George lived. I had attained the address from a friend of mine who used to date George. I knocked on the door nervously. When, after five minutes, nobody came to the door, I let myself in. It was a smallish house, but well furnished. Fred and George were also famous, under the pseudonyms of Gred and Forge, as the founders of Weasly's Wizardly Wheezes. Expecting to find a messy living room with clothes strewn all over the place, I found myself in a neat room, with a tidy rug (no incriminating lumps of junk underneath) and the sofa clear of any rubbish. Taking off my sneakers, I padded down the hallway into the room on the end. The door was closed and I figured that I could just knock and find out who was in there but then I heard talking.
"Really, George. Did you have to go and do this to yourself. That little tart will be hanging off you for weeks now," a female voice. I didn't know who it was, but I did not want to interrupt any private moments.
"Well, how could I have helped it?" the voice talked slowly, and pain filled the words. Whoever was speaking still had a hell of a hangover. Fred and George had probably just got up; I wouldn't be surprised. If they didn't have to, they wouldn't show up on campus until sometime after noon.
"Don't worry about me, of course. I only have a black eye," another voice said slowly. It had to be Fred.
"Fine! I'll fix you—" it was then that I decided to knock, and the room fell silent.
"Come in," someone finally called, it was a third male voice, if you counted the twins' voices as two different voices.
I opened the door carefully, making sure not to knock anyone over. Five faces peered at me from around the door. I felt incredibly stupid, but I saw Fred grinning slightly, sitting on a bed, nursing his head with his black eye still there.
"Uh. Hi," I said sheepishly. I recognized at least one of the faces. It was Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived, and he must have been here with faithful sidekicks, Ron and Hermione. They looked like they would fill the parts, and the redhead had to be a Weasly. I felt a little guilty for labeling them as 'sidekicks', but it seemed that they were everywhere Harry was. The female voice was Hermione, sitting across from George who was lying on the bed.
"Ron Weasly. I'm Fred and George's brother, and you are…?" Ron made the first move. Of course, he looked about the same age as me. But I had passed through school early.
"Matrices. Matrices Welland." I stuck my hand out and shook Ron's firmly. "I, uh. Well, I gave Fred a black eye last night. So I thought that I'd bring over this. There's enough here for both of them. Hangover remedy," I added when Hermione looked strangely at me. Harry and Hermione introduced themselves, though I'm sure they knew that I didn't really need an introduction to them.
I passed the bottle to Hermione who gave it to George and then to Fred. They swallowed quickly, and screwed up their faces.
"Ugh. Unfortunately that feels much better. What was that? I feel like I was kicked in the head by a mule. Oh yeah, I was," Fred commented, smiling lopsidedly at me. He stood up and went to the cupboard, and got out a small box. "Thanks for that, even if it did make me feel worse for wear."
George sat up, "Thanks," he said. Smiling, I took the present, and as I started opening the box there was a huge explosion, and the air was filled with multi-coloured feathers, in every hue of the rainbow. I laughed, as they stuck to my head and onto my clothes. I laughed and laughed and laughed. Hermione, Harry and Ron looked slightly shocked at my reaction.
"You thought that was funny?" Ron asked incredulously. I sat down on the edge of one of the beds, still clutching my sides and laughing, I nodded.
"You see? We do have buyers. And you wonder what sort of person laughs at our products," George said happily. When I had finally finished laughing, everything in the room was covered in a layer of feathers.
"Well, this will take a while to clean up," Hermione said briskly.
"Sorry," Fred said in a most unapologetic manner.
"Here, Fred. Come here," I beckoned him with my hand and he sat down next to me. I twisted his head around a little, and pressed my fingers to the temple nearest the bruise. It cleared up in a matter of seconds.
"How did you…? What did you…?" Hermione was speechless. It was pretty amazing if I say so myself, of course, it wasn't all that complicated either.
"Its really just a simple spell. I'll teach you if you want," I offered. I checked my watch. 6:15 PM, I had time.
"Look. Matrices, why don't you stay for dinner. You can discuss your medical garb sometimes after. I'll cook," Harry offered.
"No! I'll cook," Ron said quickly. He whispered aside to me: "Harry's culinary skills extend all the way to burnt toast!"
"Fine by me," Harry said, smiling. I had the feeling he knew that would happen.
"Come on," Fred took my hand and we all trooped into the dining room.
That was the beginning of our relationship. At first there were more and more whispers in the hall. "Isn't she the one who gave Freddie a black eye? Aren't' they going out?" "Why does he bother, she'll just give him another black eye," "…I would treat Fred with a little more respect…" I got used to it. After all, they were just gossips, and although I wasn't the most popular person in the school, I was definitely one of the smartest. It turned out that Harry, Hermione and Ron were there to see what our Uni was like. They would be going there next year, so Fred and George offered to let them stay at their place. I was in the same year as Fred and George, although I should have been one lower, but they had taken their first year out of Hogwarts off, and started Uni a year later. So our relationship started. Of course, I went to watch his Quidditch practice, but I wasn't the most popular person there. I was a decent flier, I just liked to spend my time messing around instead of concentrating on Quidditch. And, I had already broken the noses of some of the players; Darrel Lynche, Marcus Flint and Rowald Oskar's noses to be precise. So, I wasn't the most welcome person on the pitch, but I was still good for finding the Snitch whenever the rest of them couldn't. This only lasted, however, for a matter of weeks. They had been one player short, as their Seeker had, ironically, had his nose and several other parts broken in a crash, but they would let the Snitch out anyway. So, when their Seeker came back I was a useless 'hindrance', annoying them all by loop-de-looping through their practices.
Weasly's Wizardly Wheezes
was going very well, in fact these days Fred and George were making millions. They both had degrees in teaching, flying in George's case, Muggle Studies in Fred's, and they were both happily running WWW and alternating with relief teaching at Hogwarts. During the time that Voldemort was around their sales weren't all that good. It wasn't until after Harry destroyed Voldemort—for good—that their sales finally picked up. Everyone had lost someone, and no family was unscathed by the war, so WWW did excellently. People bought fake Christmas presents, false teeth that chattered, feather-dusters that turned into mice. As their business skyrocketed, more and more chains were opened up all over England. People were sick of having to go all the way to Hogsmeade to buy from WWW. They got a grant, and now had stores in Australia, Canada, the US, Scotland, Egypt, Russia and many more. Fred worked in their Head Quarters at Hogsmeade, and George worked in their Sub-Head Quarters in Diagon Alley. They were trying to set up a few non-profit shops in third world countries, where they would rely on the money made by other shops and donations. So far, they had two shops in Ethiopia and a few scattered around the rest of Africa.I sighed and looked at the photos on my desk, it was Christmas Eve and I was stuck in the office. I was in the middle of an incredibly tedious experiment at our Diagon Alley lab, something to do with biogenetically created diseases, aimed at certain ethnic groups. For all I knew, the Muggles were on that particular case already, they didn't need my department. I looked around the office. It was a much better office than I had had previously, large, windows—lots of windows—owl perch, in-trays, out-trays, wardrobe… Did I really have to work? There was a mountain of data for me to synchronize, sort out, co-align…. I just didn't want to work. I leaned back in my huge office chair and kicked my feet up onto the desk. With a few swift keystrokes I had my favourite website up on the internet… Many people thought that Muggle computers were useless, but we wizards had a few tricks up our sleeves. We had set up our own Wizarding network, where wizards could post everything that the Muggles had on their internet.
Somebody knocked on my door and I quickly cancelled the action that was occurring. Damn slow downloading. If it was those geeks from Administration tapping my line again I would be forced to kill them.
"Come in," I called, staring down at the data in front of me, and picking up my quill. A hand reached in the door, and dropped something on the floor. A very recognizable hand. The 'thing' exploded, sending a shower of sparks and green dust everywhere. Whatever the dust touched was coated in a layer of green slime, including me.
"William Merlin WEASLY! Get in here right this instant!" I hollered. The door opened fully to reveal Fred's brother, Bill, chuckling. It was contagious, I couldn't help it. I laughed until one of my associates came into the room from another door.
"Matrices are you—what is this stuff?!?" she began.
"Its alright Mel, its just a WWW gift from Fred. Nothing to worry about," Mel was older than me, and in many ways very annoyed that I had got this position before her. Of course, now that we were in the same position it no longer mattered.
"Ah. I'll call for Carlos then?" she asked, referring to the doorman.
"No need, I'll fix it. I need to save some to put into Fred's pyjamas anyway. I'll be out soon, and yes, I am doing my data," I replied. Mel nodded and left my room. I had always thought that Mel was rather taken will Bill. I was obviously wrong.
"Bill!" I said happily, getting up and slogging my way through the slime to receive a wet and slimy hug. "You weren't due here for another week! Our house will never fit all the guests!" Fred and I were putting up some of the guests that would be coming for our wedding in less than two weeks. I knew that he would be here for Christmas Eve dinner, but I never knew he would be here so early.
"Well, I've already been over to see Fred. He was busy, but suggested that I come over to see your ice. Come on, let me have a look," Bill grabbed my left hand, looking at my engagement ring. He whistled, "Very nice. I have a bone to pick with you, how did you now it was me, not your darling fiancée?"
"Easy enough, you have the dirtiest and most scratched hands of all the Weaslys, thank you very much. Except maybe Charlie. And you knock different," I replied simply. I whipped out my wand and cleaned up the room. A neat jar of the slime appeared on my desk.
"So, what did you want to do?" I asked. Anything to get away from that data.
"Nothing really. Well, I see you have a ton of work," Bill commented.
"Nothing that I can't put off," I replied. Bill looked at the research.
"Aren't the Muggles dealing with this?"
"Yeah," I replied, "But our superiors think that we should work on it too. Personally, I wanted to work on the Tito project, but they wouldn't let us."
"What's the Tito project?" Bill asked.
Animatedly I explained it too him. Tito was a project working to see if we could test the probability of a child being born magical. Of course, its almost 100% in wizarding families, but we needed to see what the probability would be for Muggle-Witch and Muggle-Wizard pairings. A much more interesting project for me, but unfortunately my superiors took their name to heart. The other project that I wanted to work on was a little more complicated. It involved—
"Look at the time Mati, come on. Lets go," Bill stood up from where he was sitting on the desk, and offered me a hand to pull me up. His hands were callused, scarred and there were some sores I swear that would have hurt him if I dropped hydrochloric acid on.
"Bill! Give me that hand!" I snatched up his hand and touched it with my fingers. Slowly the scars and deep scratches decreased. I took the other hand and did the same thing. "Really Bill, you should stop shaking those damn Goblin's hands. We all know they just test how strong you are, so quit shaking hands with them, and testing their strength. Use our wonderful, human, age-old spit-and-shake if you must." I complained as we left the building. We walked along Diagon Alley, and stopped just in front of Madame Malkins. I saw a red-head bobbing through the crowd. Both Fred and George had gotten taller, well, not too tall, but definitely not as short as me either. And their red hair made them easy to spot, as was true of all the Weaslys.
"Fred!" My fiancée was holding a small box carefully in his hands.
"Imp!" Everyone used 'Mati' as my nickname. But I was 'Imp' to Fred. Possibly because I spent most of my time laughing at the newest products of WWW, or because I had turned Percy into a few different animals, or maybe because it definitely showed when I was angry. But anyway, it was my nickname.
"Now. Bill, you are staying at our place aren't you?" Fred said. The box rattled.
"Of course. Just like me to live off my wonderful brother," Bill replied.
"Lets go then," Fred held my hand as we apparated to our house, or, more commonly called, Taminga Glen. The house was large, very large, but we had no problems maintaining it. Of course, all the Weasly 'children', me included, had offered to buy a house for Molly and Arthur, but the Burrow had been in the family for generations, and they swore that one of us would have to move into it when they died. It was raining in the countryside of England, and we apparated just onto the porch.
"Good thing too," commented Fred, who hated having his clothes dirtied. I refused to do his laundry—most of the time.
"Well, what's in the box?" I asked, when we were inside, and all the coats had been discarded near the door.
"Look, it is for you, by the way," Fred handed the box to me, firmly planting a kiss on my mouth.
I opened the lid slightly to see a pair of yellow eyes glaring at me. "Fred, you better not have boxed a baby grindylow, I'll kill you if you did," I said before lifting the lid up all the way. I revealed two kittens, tiny, just larger than the palm of my hand. One was sitting in the bottom of the box, the other had its paws on the side and was looked up at me with bright yellow eyes.
"Oh Fred! They're adorable. Where did you get them?" I asked happily slinging my arm around him.
"I saw them in the window of the Emporium. This little one—" he indicated the kitten sitting down, its white fur and ginger stripes prominent, "is a horrible sport, and this one—" he indicated the black one with yellow eyes, "wasn't bought because we all know how superstitious wizards are. Anyway, I went in just to get the little black one, but I couldn't' leave the ginger one there by himself, all alone."
I scooped up the black one and cradled it in my arms, "You are adorable, aren't you!" I coddled it. It purred happily, and loudly. Bill picked up the ginger kitten, and put it on its back in his arms, tickling its tummy. The reaction was instantaneous, the kitten suddenly attacked Bills fingers, scratching and biting for its little life.
"Owww!" yelled Bill, trying to detach the kitten from his fingers.
"We should call it Ron You shoulda let Charlie get that. He's become so damn confident with animals," Fred commented. I picked the kitten off Bill and walked into the kitchen.
"Don't be so mean to your brother," I reprimanded, although, it did remind me a little of Ron. I set the kittens down on our marble-topped bench and got mince out of the fridge. "Really Fred, Christmas is the time for goodwill—to all men I might add—and we have that dinner with your parents in half an hour, do remind me to change before leaving," I yelled back to him. I had a dreadful memory, and even worse organization, but I managed, although the house was covered in pink, green and blue post-its so that I could remember to do things.
"Oh yes. Should I wear a suit?" Fred yelled back. He and Bill were lugging Bill's suitcases upstairs. I mashed the mince with last-nights leftover rice, adding boiled carrots and peas, and a little very bland gravy.
"No dear, you look like a carrot when you wear a suit, and Mum insisted that it wouldn't be a formal evening," I put two dishes up on the counter, where the kittens proceeded to gobble happily. When they were done I put the remaining mix into a box, and picked them up.
"That reminds me, what did you two get for Percy's two?" Bill asked, referring to Percy and Penelope's two children, Jean Louise, six, (named after Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird) and Melissa, three. Both were "flamin' redheads" as George referred to them. Charlie also had children, three of them, but they were eight, seven and five, and much easier to shop for.
"We did promise to buy them a puppy," I called upstairs, as I put the kittens on the coffee table, putting an invisible barrier around the edge, far too high for them to climb up, or jump over. I materialized a few cat-toys to amuse them, and a large fluffy duck, which had previously sat on my bed.
"Yes, but wouldn't Percy and Penny love that?" Bill called down.
"When I was in the Eporium I did see a cute little fox-terrier. Miniature, not too much trouble, and he looked adorable," Fred mentioned.
"Well, we'll get them him, I'll just drop into Diagon Alley, I don't need to change anyway," Bill said, and with an audible 'pop' diapparated.
"Really dear," I yelled, climbing the stairs, "do we have to get them a foxy? They're so energetic, and you know that Mel likes to stick her fingers into things. And when they're little they have awfully sharp teeth."
"Oh, they'll be fine. Bill knows about that, I'm sure there's a charm to fix it," Fred kissed me quickly and we walked to our bedroom. "So, what are you calling the kittens?"
"I was thinking of Tom and Jerry, from that Muggle TV show. You know, the mouse and the cat. Jerry would be the black one, and tom the Ginger one. It seems logical," I replied.
"Yesss, but your anything but logical," Fred replied, mouth on my neck.
"Hey! That tickles!" I cried. Jumping away. Fred just blew in my ear, and I shrieked.
By the time that Bill was back, holding a puppy, we were ready. I was wearing robes of a dark blue, they clung to my figure and flared out a little at the bottom. I loved these robes, although, I wasn't sure how everyone else would react. I dragged on a dark wine coloured over-robe, and picked up everything that I had packed for the kittens, and finally cradling them in the crook of my arm.
"Oh, your not taking them are you?" Fred asked.
"Of course, what did you expect me to do? And Mum loves animals!" I sniffed. The puppy Bill was holding wasn't exactly a fox-terrier. He had 'fallen in love' with a little Aussie pup in another store, and now it was quite happily licking his face.
"I can't apparate, you'll have to do it for me," I told Fred. He hung onto me and within seconds we were in the kitchen of the Burrow.
We were met by shrieks of 'Aunty Mati! Uncle Bill! Uncle Fred!' (I was always smug about the fact that when listing people my nieces and nephews always listed 'Aunty Mati' first) amidst all the noise that the kids were making, there was a small explosion at the table, probably from a deck of Exploding Snap cards, and the puppy barking. The racket suddenly stopped. Then it restarted. 'A puppy! A puppy!' were the shrieks now, and all the children clamoured to get to Bill. The puppy howled even more, and Fred hollered for Mum.
"Really, oh! What are those kittens doing here?" Molly said as she walked into the kitchen. The noise level, if possible increased. The kittens started scratching me, and it was about all I could take.
"QUIET!" I bellowed. There was total silence, except for the clock, ticking away. "Now, we are all going to keep calm," I said, more to the cats than to the kids. They, the kids, not the cats, nodded solemnly, and I calmed down Tom and Jerry. "Now, the puppy is for Mel and Jean Louise because" I stressed, "you three" I pointed to Charlie's kids, Sephora, Wren and James, "already have Barney." A huge Saint Bernard came lumbering into the kitchen and proceeded to flop down under the table. "These kittens are mine…and Fred's, and they need some quiet, hear that?" I said. All the children nodded solemnly.
"Well, that was one way to fix it," Molly said. Bill reluctantly handed the pup over to Jean Louise who carried her with dignity into the lounge room where we heard Penelope scream.
Seph and Wren looked at me sadly. "Oh, we already got you Barney, now stop moping! I'll let you open your other present early," I said.
"Is that Fred I hear laughing?" Arthur Weasly entered the room. "Mati! How wonderful to see you, and Bill! I didn't think you could make it," Arthur hurried over with Molly and we exchanged hugs.
"Now, what's this about kittens?" Molly asked sternly.
"I got them for Imp for Christmas, and she insisted on taking them along," Fred said. I opened my arms to reveal Tom and Jerry.
"Well, they are terrible cute," Bill replied, walking into the lounge to help sooth a hyperventilating Penelope. I had the feeling that the puppy had just 'messed' on her.
"Its all Fred's fault," I replied happily, and got socked in the ear. Seph and Wren dragged James into the living room to play with the puppy, and I followed them, putting the kittens down on the coffee table and using the same spell to create an invisible barrier. Seph and Wren pressed their noses up to it and watched the kittens happily romping on the table.
"Ugh! Matrices! Whose told you that you could get my children a puppy for Christmas?" Penelope walked out of the bathroom, a large wet spot on the front of her skirt. Charlie and his wife, Camellia laughed. Charlie was holding the puppy, while Melissa sat on Cam's lap and petted it.
"Awww, she' not all that bad," Charlie protested, petting the puppy who promptly licked his face.
"I'll take her if you don't want her," Bill said perkily. Charlie grinned at him.
"Now, if you please, take that dog into the kitchen, and Nicole, what are those kittens doing on the coffee table—my coffee!" Penelope grabbed up the coffee that was sitting on the table before Tom could fall into it. The kitten spat at her and went back to roughhousing with Jerry. We heard complaints from Penelope as she walked into the kitchen to help Mum, "..really, a puppy for Christmas. A puppy…"
"Well, that's one Christmas present fixed," I said happily. The puppy was romping, or trying to romp, with Barney. I didn't know what Jean and Mel had christened it, but I could tell that it would provide plenty of laughs at tonight's dinner. I walked back into the kitchen and accepted a mug of hot coco from Molly. I sat down on the couch and handed Fred my cup so I could get comfortable. When he thought I wasn't looking he stole a sip. I knocked him in the ribs. We started talking to Charlie and Cam about Seph. Seph was, what Muggles would call a prodigy, to us, she was just smart-lil'-Seph, but that didn't matter. The question was, did they send her to Hogwarts early, or not? They had got a letter from Hogwarts offering to let her in early, but was she mature enough for school? Hogwarts' offer stood until she was the regular age to attend, but the real problem was her maturity. After all, she was only eight, but she had already managed to mimic her parents, and had nailed wingarduim leviosa and several other simple spells.
"Really, I don't see why letting her go should be a problem. She will be fine academically, and if there's another prodigy in the family, all the better," Percy contributed. He and Penelope were dead-set on producing another prodigy, although I think that all their good-genes would have ruined any chance their children had.
"Yes, but is she mature enough?" Bill asked. "You saw how she was about the puppy, imagine how she's going to be like if she fails at a spell. And even if she doesn't get into Gryffindor she'll be pounded by Snape for being a Weasly. Is she ready for that? Because I think that if Snape reduces her to tears he'll have achieved just what he wanted, and no protesting from McGonagall is going to change that. She can't be treated specially, first that wouldn't be fair to other students, and that would make her feel inferior."
Yes, Snape and McGonagall were still there. In fact, many of the teachers from Harry and Ron's days were still there. They were possibly, except Snape, who looked as young and greasy as ever, a little older, a little slower but their teaching styles were pretty much the same. Hagrid had retired as a Care of Magical Creatures teacher as he believed that that 'Slytherin trash' stirred up the hippogriffs at the beginning of every year, and he wanted to spend the rest of his days in peace with Madame Maxime and his remaining appendages. Of course, Madame Pomfrey had managed to get most of his fingers back on, and it wasn't like he was missing anything more than a toe, but still, he wanted to be able to raise his 'wonderful beasties' in peace. Strangely enough Madame Maxime held the same love of dangerous creatures as Hagrid did. Ron swore it ran in Giant blood.
Dumbledore was still Headmaster, and was still as sharp as ever. Although, apparently he sometimes appeared to be sleeping after finishing dinner in the Great Hall. This theory was dismissed when a fourth year pushed a pitcher of pumpkin juice off the table in an attempt to gain his attention. Dumbledore, without opening an eye, had waved his wand in the direction of the mess, cleaning it up with just the right spell, and choosing a few words for the student. "Do it again Flint and you'll be in Mr. Filch's office for detention." All of this was done calmly without batting an eyelid. (It had been Marcus Flint's young nephew who caused the ruckus.)
Much celebrating was done when the students found out that Filch Sr. was retiring. There were parties for most of the night after the students found out. The parties were stopped midway by two things, Filch, and the fact that Filch's son would be taking his place. Filch actually had a son, strangely enough, and he was just as mean and tight arsed as his father.
Professor Sprout had accidentally allowed a student to be swallowed by a giant Venus Fly Trap, but convinced the plant to spit him up again. Obviously, who would think that Pansy Parkinson's much younger sister tasted any good?
"…well, of course she's ready, but is she mature enough? That's what this whole conversation has been about!" Cam exclaimed.
It was a good thing that all the kids were in the kitchen and couldn't hear a word of this. Some shrieking met our ears as an obvious 'pop' sounded from the kitchen.
'Uncle Harry! Uncle Ron! Auntie Hermione!' were the yells this time, and from Molly came '…RON! What have you done to your hair? Harry, have some coffee, Hermione, its wonderful to see you dear…' Apparently, judging form the commotion, Ron had dyed his hair…purple. That's what comes with being in one of the most famous wizard bands in Europe—no, make that the World.
Harry Potter. What could we say? He is The Boy Who Lived, and many magazines were turning his romance wither Hermione into The Boy Who Lived, Loved, and Got Engaged. Hermione was furious about Witch Weekly's centerfold of Harry wearing a speedo (no one knows where they got that one, unless Ron isn't telling us something) and a three page report on Harry's life with Hermione and their upcoming wedding. I'd seen that one. There'd been a note at the front saying that they had been forced to cut it short in order to fit everything else in.
"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Molly squealed when Hermione showed her the ring. They came walking in holding steaming cups. "Really Hermione, getting married, well, that's another thing, and you Harry. Well, its bad enough with Fred getting married to Mati so late, but Bill! he must be insane! Really, not getting married at all…" Molly continued as she sat down with Hermione.
"I thought George and I got all the insanity," Fred whispered in my ear after hearing his mother's comment. I smiled. It wasn't that I minded getting married so late. It didn't even really occur to us until Molly asked when we were going to get married. Often enough I had introduced Fred as 'my husband' and it wasn't until my friends said 'but Matrices, you don't have a husband,' that I often realized my mistake. I was the same with Fred. We just considered ourselves 'married'. It didn't really bother either of us that we weren't.
"Thanks mother," Bill said dryly. Molly shot him a look and he shut up.
"So, who're we waiting on?" Cam asked. The children were playing in the kitchen.
"Just Ginny," Arthur replied, "Unless Ron's got someone coming late?"
Ron scowled, "No, I do not have anyone coming late." Screams erupted from the kitchen. It seems that Ginny had just arrived.
Ginny was somewhat the black sheep of the family. She was inevitably resentful that she was the youngest, but, despite her black-sheep-ish-ness, we loved her all the same. It was Ron's fans and the media who didn't. Ginny was dating Draco Malfoy. Sure, most of the Weasly's hated the idea at first, but Draco had saved Ron's life twice, and Ginny's once, so they all figured that the least they could do was put up with him. The first time I'd met him was when Ginny brought him for dinner. Fred could barely get through dinner without making a snide remark, but I found Draco rather pleasant actually. According to Fred that was all just a cover-up for what a slimy, inconsistent, horrible, despicable, git he had been. Ginny adored him, and I thought that they made a perfect couple. Of course, considering the amount he pestered her at Hogwarts, it would have been almost clear that he liked her, but, apparently he was like that to everyone back then, so it wouldn't have shown. He had turned out quite respectable from the Slytherin he had been. Most suspected that it was Voldemort's uprising that changed him. I would never know.
A loud bang resounded and multicoloured smoke drifted into the lounge. I pushed my cup up and let it rest in the air before I rushed to investigate. The kids were—was that laughter, or were they crying—laughing, so it can't have been bad.
"Draco! I told you that the stupid thing would smell," I heard Ginny reprimanding. Through the smoke I saw Draco shrug. I heard Fred and the others come up behind me.
"Sorry. I thought the kids would like it," Draco bent down and picked up Melissa, resting her on his hip as she laughed happily.
"Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasly! It has to be you two creating that smell!" Fred yelled to the shadows in the mist. Draco and Ginny emerged. Draco, every hair in place, as usual, his black robes spotless, even hairless, which was surprising as he owned two white dogs that shed like it was the end of the world. The two dogs came bounding through the mist to jump on poor Barney. Even though they were both less than half the size of him, they loved his company. Draco smiled and flashed about a million perfect white teeth at my scowling. He knew what I was thinking, and had happily refused to tell me his secret.
"Put those things away, you're blinding me!" I reprimanded, hugging Ginny and then Draco, as others did the same.
"Never, and anyway, it's not my fault, you should wear sunglasses," Draco replied, he looked around. "This place is a zoo, or at least an animal shelter…and is that mewing I hear? You did know that cats have adverse effects on my skin, don't you?"
I mocked anger. Of course, this sort of rivalry was common of me and my brothers, and Draco was as good as a brother. They had brought two bags along. So had most of us. It wasn't really the Burrow—house, anymore, it was more of The Burrow—mansion. Anticipating that we would either be too drunk, tired or both to get back to our houses safely most of us had brought along clothes for the night. I grabbed Ginny's bag. "Of course they do, I bought them just for that." Draco smiled again.
"Let me take it up for you, I have a feeling you wont want me around when you see Melissa and Jean's Christmas present. I suspect that Bill and Fred should probably hide as well." I grinned Fred took up his cue, and Bill scurried to hide in the downstairs bedroom.
"Of course, and I'll help take the rest of the stuff up," he said, gallantly. Ginny poked him in the stomach and he cracked up laughing.
"Sucker," she said before skipping into the lounge, where we heard a slight shriek. I think she had seen the kittens.
"That's our cue out," I said, racing Fred up the stairs. I tripped on the top stair and as a result Fred landed on top of me. I burst into laughter at the sight of a frazzled looking red head coming out of one of the rooms.
"Did I miss anything?" George asked. His hair looked like he had been in on a long kissing session.
"Not a lot. Ginny and Draco just arrived," I said. Chucking their bags into their room.
"Ah," replied George, disappearing into his room again, where we heard giggles.
"As fresh as young lambs those two," I smiled at Fred, and we walked back to the lounge, where Ron had taken my chair, and was wrestling with the kittens.
"They must be insane. No cats like you Ron," Fred said as we walked in. Ron shot him a dirty look, and then smiled.
"And that is why I do not perform music to cats," He replied smartly. Damn that mouth. He'd become much better at these comebacks after a while. He ticked Tom under the chin, and he stacked Ron's hand. I smiled knowingly.
"George's coming down. With Arielle," I said. I had thought it rather funny that George had chosen to marry a mermaid from one of Hans Christian Anderson. Of course, Arielle wasn't a mermaid, but she did have bright blonde hair. Something that I had never envied, because, personally, I did not want kids with bright red hair.
I heard several thumps—six to be exact—and two heads appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Wailing.
"Melissa pushed me dooooooooooooooown!" wailed Jean Louise. While James cried that 'Seph had insulted' him. Kids.
"Come on, we're having dinner soon," Molly said. James perked up. I swore that kid was a natural cook, he could bake better than I could. That, Fred often deemed it right to remind me, was why he did the cooking in our house. James liked holding a wand and levitating dishes in front of him. A maitre 'de, that kid.
We took our places at the table. When is say 'places' I mean it. It was an all too common occurrence in the Weasly household to leave the table for a moment, and find someone moved into your spot to talk to your husband. Rather annoying the first time it happened, the second time, I just sat down on George, who had moved over. Served him right too.
The first course arrived. Then the second. Then the third.
"Mum! You've really out done yourself this time. Have you ever thought of opening a bed and breakfast?" I exclaimed over roast lamb. I swore that I wouldn't eat for a week after this, but who knew? I could always manage pudding!
"Really mother," Percy replied. He was a successful minister in the Ministry of Magic, (often referred to as the MoM—far too overprotective if you ask me). Very proud of it too. Penelope was a Muggle accountant. Of course, she used a few rather interesting spells to straighten everything out. We chatted and ate. And talked a little more. There was barely anything left unsaid by the time the pudding arrived, but we were still talking.
It was then that it hit me.
I felt like I had been zapped with a few thousand volts. My body jerked, and I started shaking. I wouldn't have stopped if Fred hadn't held onto my shoulders.
"Matrices! Matrices! Attention to Matrices!" a voice sounded from a chip in my wrist.
"What? You didn't need to shock me so hard. A little amount of pressure would have done it. I'm not completely stupid, you know," I replied testily. The voice crackled out of my wrist again.
"Matrices, we have a problem. A little girl has been found, in Greenland. Where a herd of ponies normally grazes, but today a hunter scared them off, and she was found with one foot in a deer trap. We don't know how she got there, but we need help. We need you down here. Mel says that you have to come. She's in trouble. She's resisting all our charms. She seems to have some sort of barrier up. We need you here to figure out what it is."
"Okay, a little redundant, huh? You coulda just said 'get your butt over here now,' and that would have been just as effective." I touched my wrist with my wand and a panel projected above me. I had a map. Ah, it was Emily. I knew it. I could recognize that voice. Emily was rather new, she was under my care, but Mel had every right to call her any time she wanted for anything. It was handy, having these horrible little things planted in. At least I could never get seriously lost, unless the chopped my arm off. Fred took his arm away. They had all heard the message. I stood up. "I'm so sorry Mum," I said quietly. I had been looking forwards to tonight.
Emily spoke again, "And bring Virginia with you? Please? We need her empathy skills." Ginny had a rare and wonderful talent. She knew what we were feeling, be it love, hate, joy or despair. And she could project emotions. Making it pretty effective for her, she could calm down the most stressed adult. Possibly why she chose to work as a councilor. I frowned.
"Its Christmas eve, can't it wait?" I asked. I did not want to rip Ginny from her social life, but Ginny was already getting ready.
"No! It can't! Mel wants you two here, now!"
I sighed. That was it then. With many apologies and assurances that I would be back before midnight, I strode towards the door, and disapparated with Ginny.
"Matrices? Miss Weasly? Oh I'm so glad you're here, it's absolute mayhem. The little dragon won't let anyone near her, let alone close enough to see if she's okay. She seems to have some sort of defense mechanism, and all our spells just come right on back. Oh you have to fix it…" Emily wailed.
"Emily, its okay, calm down, everything's going to be fine. I'm Ginny, no need for formalities," Ginny projected calm into Emily, who evidently slowed down here breathing rate by about a hundred breaths per minute. Ginny never ceases to amaze me. We never wonder why she's often acting as a therapist and there while people are in labour. Her amazing talent has so many uses. I smiled and walked over to where Mel was indicating.
"So, whatsup?" I asked, trying to keep it casual. Mel pointed to a cage, with a fithly girl sitting in there sobbing.
"That's the kid they picked up. Monica wants us to sedate her, check her out for infections and stuff, and then she's going to become an experimen," Mel snorted, "and the ministry says that they're humane. Humane my aunt Lobelia, this is not humane, if you ask me, and neither is taking notes on a child as they progress!" Mel sniffed.
"Fine, so, what am I meant to do?"
"Well, Monica figured that you could use some of that non-wandy stuff to sedate her. Then, if that doesn't work, we bring in Ginny, stupefy her and do our business. Personally, I just want to leave. The little feral's already got a good chunk out of my finger."
I laughed, and moved over to where my boss, Monica, was standing.
"Did Mel brief you?" Monica asked. She was holding onto an ice pack that was on her leg.
"Sure, so you really want me to try?" I asked. Monica nodded. "Ooookay. You da boss." I smiled, and indicated for Ginny to follow me. I walked up to the cage, and the little girl in there tensed up.
"Sure it's not a monkey?" Ginny asked from behind me.
"Definitely sure. Monkey's aren't too good with the whole captivity thing. If it were a monkey it would have been outta here." I replied.
Ginny concentrated at the child relaxed. "Just giving you a head start," she whispered. I walked towards the kid. I was eager to get it done. Its not my fault that the kid decided to turn up just now, and on Christmas eve as well! I was tempted to let it—her?—go and get back to dinner. Dessert should have been being served pretty soon!
She had been cleaned with spells—that much I knew. Of course, no one could get near enough to clean her properly, so she was still dirty where she had dodged the spells. She wore a ratty cloth of some kind that wrapped around her and covered most of her body. The child snarled and clawed at her head as I started putting charms on her. She flailed and my charms came bounding back.
"I think I'll have to try it without a wand, can you do a little more hocus pocus for me?" I asked Ginny. She nodded. The child visibly calmed when Ginny sent out her 'empathy'. That was to be expected of course. I wrapped a cleaning spell around her, using movements of my hands, and she became a sparkly white. I could feel Ginny toning down her magic. I moved my hands again and she was enveloped in a layer of warmth. Suddenly, everything broke. The child lashed out, striking with tooth and claw. Her eyes, the looked at my like they knew me, and I could have sworn I knew her. Ginny and I poured our magic into a defensive wall, and all the other mages struck.
"Stupefy!" they shouted, and the child went limp.
"What the hell did you do that for?" I raged. I rushed over to the child, who was twitching.
"Look, Matrices, you're not doing anything. The most we can do now is just give her food and water, and take her to HQ. I want to go back to Christmas Dinner, and if you were wise, you would too. We can sort her out later. Go, we don't need you anymore," Monica snapped. I scowled.
"C'mon Ginny. We'll fix this mess later," I growled, and we disapparated.
"Of course. Our wedding is going to be after Fred and Mati's of course. We don't want to have to organize too much, and Hermione is one of the Bride's Maids…" we heard Harry say as we walked into the Burrow.
"Oh, Matrices, Ginny, is everything okay?" Molly asked. I scowled.
"I'll explain," Ginny told me. "You go to bed, you look beat."
"Oh, and the children want someone to put them to bed. I think that means you Matrices," Arthur smiled. I loved putting the kids to bed.
"Of course, I'll be down for dessert in a little while," I said, before apparating upstairs. Upstairs, on the third level, I found Draco and George struggling to get the kids into their pyjamas. Arielle was watching, and, quite notoriously, doing nothing.
"Draco, you suck. You really do." I said as I watched him trying to get Jean into a pyjama top.
"Thank god you're here. Let's go, Malfoy," George said, dropping the top he was chasing Melissa around with. 'Malfoy' was what many people still called Draco. George included, of course, these days it mean squat. Most of the Weasly's had come to accept Draco as family. I glowered at Arielle, and she sauntered off, flicking her silky blonde mane. I had never liked Arielle, she was a reporter—of the worst kind, I swore her idol was Rita Skeeter—and I had the sinking feeling that she wasn't honest with us, least of all George. She used him, to get inside information from Ron, who was inside information, being so successful in his band. I also felt that she wasn't quite human, I wasn't sure though, but I knew that one of these days she was going to break George's heart. I just hoped that she could be stopped before then.
I god the kids into their clothes with a small amount of struggle. What could I say? It's not that hard to get kids into clothes. I smiled as I watched Barney come lumbering in, to jump up on the bed. Wren and James climbed over the huge dog, playing with him.
"Bed, now. All of you." I snapped in mock anger. We clambered into Mum's lengthened bed. Molly had made it large enough so that five kids could sleep together comfortably in it. Mainly because of the troubles that 'who Barney sleeps with' caused. I lay on the edge, next to Melissa. Barney's bulk caused Seph to curl her legs up, but the rest of the kids were unhindered.
"Can I put out the lights Aunty Mati?" asked Seph. I smiled at her eagerness.
"Go ahead, kiddo," I replied. Seph whispered the spell I had taught her on my last visit, and the lights dimmed, until there was just enough light to see by. As the smaller kids started drifting off, I heard Seph whispering.
"What Seph?" I asked quietly. She clambered over Barney to come and sleep next to me.
"What happened tonight, when you had to go? Is that little girl all right? Will she be okay? Can I see her?" Seph whispered very quickly. I told her the story of the little child, and we slowly fell asleep.
"Imp, Imp…" I jerked awake to see Fred's face over mine. I yawned as he dragged me out of the bed.
"Sorry, I must have fallen asleep," I said as we wandered down the hall to our own room. I smoothed down my hair that was sticking every which way as we walked past the Weasly's enchanted mirror. I dragged myself into bed after changing in pyjamas.
"We had pudding already," Fred said, explaining that he had been up earlier when I didn't come down, a let me sleep. I nodded, pulling the dooner up to my chin, and feeling the comfortable weight of the kittens sleeping on my feet. Fred slipped under the covers and wrapped a strong arm around my curled form, pulling my back into his chest. I closed my eyes, and let the stress of the last few hours take over.
"I love you, Imp," Fred whispered in my ear as he brushed my temple with a kiss.
Yes, Life was definitely perfect.
A/N: I like to put the author's note at the end. That way it doesn't distract from the story. I would like to mention the fact that if I don't get too many reviews suggesting that I keep writing, the story will probably end. If I don't get many reviews and you do want more, just drop me a line, over email (you can find it in my profile) and I'll either send them or post them here.
I realise that my chapters are relatively long. Actually, they're pretty long. Sometimes they're hard to read, and I'm sorry for that. I know of longer, but I would like you to bear in mind that I like to write long chapters, and this way it all ties in with everything else and I have no loose threads left!