A/N: I've always wanted to do something like this; enjoy! More chapters soon!
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1981 – August 11th
A pained scream tore through the maternity ward at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
Outside of the room from which the sound came, a gaggle of redheaded boys were seated in a row of chairs up against the wall. They were all gibbering – incoherently, for the most part, considering only half the lot knew how to use a toilet.
"Finally, another chaser!" Charlie, the second eldest at nine years of age, exclaimed. "Now we can have our own professional Quidditch team!"
"I don't play Quidditch, Charlie," Percy complained. He was five. "I've told you at least a hundred times already."
"And," Bill piped in, struggling to maintain his grip on his squirming brother, Ron. "How're we supposed to practice? Mum won't let Fred and George within ten feet of brooms yet!"
At that moment, Fred leaned over the arm rest of the chair he shared with his twin and bit down – hard – on Percy's forearm. He was going through a phase.
Percy screamed, shoved the three-year-old away, and began to cry rather noisily. "I want Mummy!"
Charlie rolled his eyes. "Don't be a baby, Perce." He glanced warily at the door to his immediate right. "Mum isn't here. And she won't be – not for a while, anyway."
Percy rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands and sniffed. Ron wobbled precariously on Bill's knee and sneezed. Fred and George got out of their chair and began chasing each other around in circles up and down the corridor.
"Got you!" George screeched merrily. He turned and started to run in one direction. Fred caught up to him.
"I got you!" he hollered.
This went on for a while, until Percy finally got sick of watching the obnoxious display of rule-breaking. "Stop it, you two!" he whined. "You're going to get us all in trouble! Dad said we had to be good!"
The two identical boys glanced at each other. Then, they attacked. Percy squealed and began to scream.
Charlie, Bill and Ron sat and watched the unsurprising display of violence with dispassionate eyes and wondered when their newest sibling would arrive.
…
"Just one more push, Molly!" Healer Gishbert encouraged, gently. "She's crowning!"
Arthur brushed the sweaty locks plastered to his wife's forehead back. "Come on, Molls. You've got this. Just think – a beautiful baby girl to go home with."
Molly screamed again, her eyes screwed shut so tightly her head began to hurt. A pressure, constantly there for the past few hours, lessened. A piercing cry echoed through the room, and Molly sobbed uncontrollably.
"Oh, Merlin," she sniffled. "Let me see her – let me see my baby."
Healer Gishbert cast a cleaning charm upon the wailing, auburn-haired little girl, swaddled her in a pink down blanket, and handed her to her mother. Molly beamed.
"Ginevra," she cooed, cradling her expertly and running a finger down the baby's doughy, reddened cheek. Her eyelids were tightly shut.
A dull, arresting pressure issued from below, suddenly, and Molly gasped.
"Oh," Gishbert's eyes widened. He checked her birthing canal and glanced back up at the confused-looking parents. "It looks like there's another little one. They must've been hiding behind Ginevra."
Arthur and Molly exchanged a shocked glance. Arthur took Ginny and held her in one arm, grasping Molly's hand with his free one.
They hadn't prepared for this. Another baby posed a whole new financial situation – one even more pressing than it had been. With six sons, one daughter, and another little person they hadn't even known about – well – it was a wonder Arthur and his wife hadn't started going prematurely grey.
They would manage. They always did.
Just one push, and another baby showed itself to the brightness of the delivery room. It was silent.
Molly gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth, her already-wet eyes beginning to well up once more. Arthur paled. Gishbert, to his credit, retained his calm countenance.
"She appears to be having some trouble breathing," he told them, his wand waving vigorously over the gently-squirming baby, whose face was slowly turning an alarming, pale shade of blue. Her hair was the richest of chocolates – even though it was matted with blood and amniotic fluid – and she was a lot smaller than Ginny.
After a painstaking few seconds of uncertainty, Molly squeezing Arthur's hand and trying to stifle her sobs, a weak, squalling whine issued from the girl.
"Ah," Gishbert sighed relievedly. "Just some blockage. She's a bit underweight, I see. But she appears to be just fine." He cast a cleaning charm on her and swaddled her in a blanket identical to Ginny's, handing her to Molly.
Molly took her gently and peered down lovingly at the small infant. Unlike Ginny, her eyes opened almost immediately. They were a warm brown. Like Molly's.
Her tiny fist curled around Molly's forefinger. Molly felt tears pour down her cheeks.
"Oh, Arthur," she grinned up at him. He positively beamed down at her. "Two beautiful girls." She looked down at the little surprise, who stared right back up at her, curiously. "What should we name her?"
They'd only picked out one name, after all. Arthur hummed ponderously.
"Lucille."
Molly chewed the inside of her cheek and cuddled the girl closer. "Lucille… Piper. Lucille Piper Weasley."
Arthur nodded, smiling. "Lucy and Ginny."
After that, there was still some extra cleaning and procedures to be done. So, once the names were copied down onto certificates, Molly was all tucked into her changed bed sheets, and the girls were clothed in tiny baby pink onesies, Gishbert let their rambunctious group of sons in.
"Mummy, Mummy!" George exclaimed, hopping onto the bed. Fred hopped onto the other side. Bill ushered Charlie and Percy in, still holding Ron.
"Hello, boys," Arthur beamed at them. "Look, you have two sisters instead of just one."
"You say that like it's a present, Dad," Percy commented, warily. "Remember Fred and George? I thought they might be okay, but just look at them now."
Arthur chuckled, but Molly clicked her tongue.
"Hush, Percy," she scolded. "Your sisters are blessings."
Percy still seemed skeptical, but held his tongue.
Bill, ever-aware of how tight money was at the moment, looked to his father in apprehension. The man shook his head and put an arm – the one that wasn't holding Lucy – around his eldest son's shoulders.
"Everything's going to be just fine," Arthur told him, correctly guessing what was on his mind. "We'll make things work, I promise."
Bill nodded, examining his sister curiously. "Is this Ginny?" He shifted Ron's weight to one hip and ran a finger gently over the girl's noggin. "Her hair isn't red."
"This is Lucy," Arthur corrected. "And no, it isn't. But she's just like the rest of us."
Charlie was having trouble deciding which sister to go to first.
"There's so many!" he cried dramatically, falling to his knees and clutching the front of his shirt. Fred and George, having had their fill of Ginny's presence, stood up on the edge of the bed to get a good look at the second Weasley girl in their father's arms.
"Whoa…" Fred murmured amazedly, rubbing a soft, down lock of Lucy's dark hair between his fingers.
He looked at George. Then, patted his hair. George turned to him, startled. "What's you doin'?"
"Why you not have hair like Other Baby?" Fred demanded. George was dumbfounded.
Arthur snorted. "Her name is Lucy, Fred."
Fred shrugged. After a moment, "I'm hungry, Da."
"Me too," George nodded.
The Weasley brood would remain at the hospital for a few more hours, in which they would eat at the hospital cafeteria and fawn over their new siblings. Then, they would be forced to spend the night at Aunt Muriel's, because Arthur was staying at the hospital – something they all complained heartily about; Fred and George didn't know how to pronounce enough words to completely express their disgust – and then go home the following day with their mother, father, and two sisters – who were, according to the twins, way more fun than stupid, boring, poopy old Ron.
… …. …. …. …. …. …. … ….
As they aged, the two girls' mannerisms and personalities began to show through.
Ginny was loud, and quick to scream her head off in anger or frustration. Her fists flew sooner than her words did – not that she could speak much at all – and she seemed to enjoy gummily gnawing on people's body parts when bored. Much like Fred, actually, but he quickly grew out of that phase when he saw that his little sister was doing it. Ginny seemed to enjoy watching her brothers zip around in the sky on their broomsticks when she was taken outside. She had a lot of crazy hair straight off the bat, and Molly was constantly trying to tame it.
Lucy was a lot different.
She rarely ever cried, and when she did, it was only because she was in pain. Ginny often cried enough for the both of them, and Lucy was almost always hungry when Ginny was hungry. They had to periodically check to see if she needed changing, because she would never verbally let them know. She started to speak much earlier than her sister. The only things she and Ginny had in common were their looks – they both had the same button nose, the brown eyes, and the smattering of freckles across their noses. Although, there was the rather obvious variance in their hair. Lucy was the only Weasley without the signature fiery locks – her dark, brown hair was plentiful, but it grew straight and was easy to just put into short pigtails and be done with.
She was close to their mum, but Ginny was rather independent and seemed to dislike being in anyone's company for too long, pardoning – maybe – Bill.
All in all, she was a passive, quiet baby where Ginny was a brash, demanding one.
… …. … … …. …. … … … … .. … … .. … ..
1983 – February 17th
Arthur had already gone off to work that morning. Bill and Charlie were at Hogwarts – it was Charlie's first year. The rest of the Weasley children were gathered around the table, eating breakfast.
Ginny and Lucy were sitting in highchairs with charmed spoons feeding them at regular intervals. Percy was carefully separating his portions into neat shapes with his fork before eating them. Fred and George would push the sausages out of their squares with their sticky fingers whenever Percy reached for another one; he was getting more and more upset each time. Ron was stuffing everything in his line of sight into his mouth.
Percy's face was a deep maroon when he saw his messed up plate for the fifth time. Lucy saw this.
"Pah-cie," she called. He looked up, his eyebrows raised. She pointed to Fred and George.
He gave them a scathing look. "Thank you, Lucille. I had a hunch that they were behind this."
They blew raspberries at him. Lucy frowned at them. The spoon that had been on its way up to feed her again turned sharply and flew in their direction.
Fred had oatmeal running down the side of his face a moment later; George was being thumped by the spoon repeatedly. Molly turned, saw this, and furrowed her brow. She waved her wand and the spoon fell and clattered on the table.
Ginny was still sleepily eating her porridge. Lucy was giggling. Fred and George were gawking.
"Lucy!" Molly gasped, stunned.
Percy smiled at his little sister.
… … … … … … … … … .. … … … .. … .. ..
1987 – September 24th
Years passed. The Weasley children all grew – physically and mentally – and the house felt just a bit emptier without three of its usual inhabitants. Only Fred, George, Ron, Ginny and Lucy remained.
They – that is to say, Ron, Ginny and Lucy; Fred and George no longer permitted Molly to read them stories before bed – were all gathered in Ginny and Lucy's room. The moonlight shone through the purple curtains and illuminated their young faces. Lucy was bundled in her blankets so thickly that she looked more like a snowman than a human; Ginny was on top of her quilt, propped up against the wall; Ron sat on a pillow on the floor, and Molly was rocking back and forth in a rocking chair before them all.
"What story do you lot want to hear tonight?" Molly inquired, her hands clasped together on her lap. Lucy unwound herself from her fluffy fortress and lumbered over to sit on her lap.
"The one about Harry Potter, Mummy!" Ginny exclaimed, bouncing.
"Nobody wants to hear that story anymore, Ginny," Ron complained. "You always want to hear that one! I want to hear The Wizard and the Hopping Pot."
Molly scowled. "Don't be rude to your sister, Ronald."
Ron exhaled noisily. "But we do, Mum! Why do we always have to hear the one that Ginny wants to hear?"
Ginny threw a pillow at him. Molly reflexively waved her wand; the pillow stopped halfway through its arch and flew back to the sender. Ginny crossed her arms and huffed.
"No throwing, Ginevra," Molly scolded. She looked down to the small girl in her lap. "Now. Lucy, dear, what story do you want me to read?"
Ron huffed. Ginny sighed. Lucy looked between them, uncertain.
"Um…" she blew a wayward lock of dark hair out of her face as a warmish, late September breeze blew in. Lucy smiled. "The story of… how I've got brown hair, Mummy."
The room was silent. Ron and Ginny exchanged a look, and Molly seemed amused. "That's a new one. I suppose I could tell you," Molly mused. "But you have to promise to keep it a secret."
They all leaned forward.
"When your father and I found that our family was getting bigger, we didn't know that there were going to be two babies. Ginny was a very big, very active baby. Lucy was very… quiet. We thought it would just be you, Ginny," Molly said to the redheaded girl. Ginny slid off of her bed and sat next to Ron, closer to their mother.
"Now, you'll have to understand a few things before I go any further into the story. Babies are in mummies' tummies so that they can bake until they're ready for the real world. While they're there, they eat the things we eat.
"At night, Lucy and Ginny traded spots in my tummy. Lucy would squirm her way to the top, and Ginny was forced to find another spot. It was at nighttime, however, that I would go downstairs and eat one of my favorite midnight snacks – chocolate truffle."
They all giggled. Lucy was running her small fingers through her hair and grinning.
Molly continued, a smile teasing the corners of her lips. "I did this every night – sometimes truffle; sometimes chocolate milk; and sometimes chocolate pudding…" she paused for dramatic effect. "And the entire time, I had no idea that I was slowly – ever so slowly – changing the hair color of the baby on top – the one that was closer to my mouth."
Ron had fallen sideways at this point, trying to suppress his chortles.
"When the babies finally arrived, Ginny's hair was as red as mine or your father's. But Lucy's hair was about as chocolate as all the snacks I'd been eating. And I knew, almost immediately, where it had come from."
At that point, she coddled Lucy closer to her and gave her a warm hug. "So you see, Lucy, dear – it's really because of me that your hair is such a lovely brown. Everyone in this family is special in different ways; it just so happens that your hair is what makes you unique. Do you understand?"
Lucy nodded sleepily. "Yes, Mummy."
"Good." She shifted Lucy's weight in her arms and rose from her rocking chair. Ginny got back into bed. Ron scrambled to his feet.
Molly tucked Lucy in, her blankets tight around her, placed a loving kiss on the tiny girl's crown, and turned to do the same for Ginny. Ron stood there afterward, his arms outstretched, and Molly put her hands on her hips.
"Now, Ronald, you're much too big for me to carry you."
Ron pouted, but grudgingly shuffled out of the room by himself.
… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …
1991 – September 1st
"They're all leaving for reals, Luce," Ginny wiped at her eyes.
The hazy smoke of the platform did nothing to hide the huge, scarlet train in all of its blazing glory. Their mother and father stood behind them, waving to their siblings. They'd ran into Harry Potter himself outside of the barrier, and while Ginny had been ecstatic before, now she was melancholy.
"Not just yet, they're not," Lucy smiled softly, gripping her sister's hand.
Ginny shot her a confused look. The train began to move.
"Come on." Lucy tugged her hand, and they ran with the train. Ginny laughed and they kept waving and waving.
"Don't cry, Ginny!" One of the twins shouted from their window.
"Yeah!" yelled the other. "We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat!"
Ginny's tear tracks were still glistening on her face as she laughed. Lucy pouted.
"What will you get me?!" she inquired, having to raise her voice louder than she ever had before.
"We'll send you a sink, Luce!" the first answered, his maniacally humorous expression firmly in place.
The train was picking up speed. Their meager pace – slowed by their linked hands – was suddenly overcome, and the windows that displayed their brothers' faces faded away in the distance. Ginny fell to her knees, and Lucy tumbled down with her.
They laughed together, clutching at each other's arms.
… … … … … … … … … … … …
1992 – March 7th
Molly bustled away in the kitchen, preparing a light snack of tea and sandwiches for her girls and their friend, Luna Lovegood – she lived with her father just over the hill.
Lucy was fiddling with the wireless; Ginny was busy sewing a button onto the dress of her doll while Luna played with the yarn. A melodious – if a bit high-pitched – voice floated from the old radio, suddenly, and Lucy toppled off of the couch.
"It's Orville Orcus!"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Not that guy again."
Luna blinked owlishly. "Who's Orville Orcus?"
"He's like Gilderoy Lockhart," Ginny complained. "Only he's got pipes, so he's all that and a box of chocolate frogs."
Lucy stood and scooped up the wireless. "Ginny is very opinionated, Luna," she explained, shooting her sister a look. "She doesn't like him just to not like him – she's jealous."
"I am not," Ginny groused. "And I don't not like him just to not like him! I don't like him because you parade his name around like he's the most perfect wizard that ever lived!"
"I don't dislike Harry Potter," Lucy pointed out. The rest went unsaid.
"At least Harry Potter did something," Ginny argued, flushed. Lucy rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, and I'm sure he remembers it so well."
Luna stood, then, and began to hop on one foot. They both stared at her. She switched feet and made her way around the room.
Ginny cleared her throat. "Er, Luna?"
"You both seem to be plagued by a rather nasty case of Tellaritus," she answered their unasked questions. "It slips in through your fingernails and makes you feel particularly argumentative. The only way to ward it off is to hop around on one foot while thinking peaceful thoughts."
The twins exchanged a look, shrugged, and began to hop around on one foot to ward off their moods.
… … … … … … … .. . … .. … … … ..
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