There wasn't a family in town that didn't know the Weasleys. And there wasn't a family in town who didn't love them. Molly Weasley, at one time or another, had knitted sweaters for every man, woman, and child that lived in a five-mile radius. It didn't matter the occasion. Christmas, Easter, Birthdays, even if you just wanted one. She liked just about everyone she met, and what better way to show it than through a thoughtful gift. Her husband, Arthur, was just as well loved, by muggles and wizards alike. The man would help you move in or move out, he would fix your car for you, or even just listen to you complain about your neighbor. They were there for everyone, and they had raised their children to be just as kind.
Their eldest, Bill Weasley, had married a charming girl from a couple towns over and now worked for the bank in town. Charlie, their second eldest, had never married but was doing equally well as a dragon trainer in Romania. Neither lived at home anymore, but Bill lived close and Charlie sent postcards when he could.
Percy was their next eldest son. Since their older two children had been so independent, and never required much attention, the brunt of Molly and Arthur's affection went to Percy. He was what you would call spoiled. Always primped and preened, dressing at the height of fashion, enunciating every word, you would think he was from a different family.
His two younger twin brothers were quite different. Not a soul in town was more charming than Fred and George Weasley. They had their father's strong jawline and their mother's kind eyes, identical except for a few stray freckles. But every single girl in town could tell them apart. When you spend so long looking at a face, you can see it on the back of your eyelids when you close your eyes. The twins knew they were charming, but they didn't yet know what to do with it.
Ron was Molly and Arthur's youngest son. He was smart and good looking and could have had his pick of the girls as well, if he hadn't already made up his mind. He had been in love with the neighbors' girl since anyone could remember, and although they were too young now, he was going to propose to Hermione Granger as soon as he was old enough.
It's hard to stand out in a family this big, but the Weasley's youngest child was… well, unforgettable. Ginevra Weasley, only eleven, and the family's only girl, was crazier than a Cornish pixie. She was most often found in a tree top, and her knees had never seen an un-scraped day. She had cropped her hair to the bottom of her chin with one of her brother's pocket knives when she was seven, much to the dismay of her mother. She loved all her brothers, but she followed Fred and George around like a lost dog. They had taught her to fish, to climb trees, to play quidditch, and how to put dungbombs under Percy's pillow without him noticing.
The Weasley's were a big family, and time had started to spread them throughout the country. But today, for the first time in roughly a year, all the Weasley children were under one roof. Why, you might ask? Percy was getting married.
"I'm currently taking care of a baby Romanian Longhorn," Charlie, who hadn't seen his father in months because of work, was recounting any and every exciting thing that happened since he had been home, and Arthur was listening intently. "The only thing is, it's imprinted on me, and follows me around singing holes in my clothes." He fiddled with the burn marks on the sleeve of his suit. "It almost burnt my flat down when I left it with the sitter." He chuckled as if this was a normal thing that could happened.
"Now…Romanian Longhorn. Are those the blue ones with wings, or the red ones without legs?" Arthur had no knowledge what so ever about dragons, he was just happy to see his son, home and only moderately burnt.
"No no, they're the green ones with wings and horns." Charlie corrected, before launching into a discussion about the Chinese fireballs they were getting ready to observe when he went back.
A room away, a very different conversation was happening.
"Mother, this is the third time I've tied my tie and it's still not straight." Molly looked over at her son Percy, her eyes calmly drifting over his tie as he groaned in frustration.
"Sweetheart, it looks fine to me." In her opinion, the tie had been straight the first time he tied it. She tried to hold back her sigh as he untied tied it for the fourth time.
"It just has to be perfect. Have you seen Penelope today?" Penelope Clearwater was his bride to be, the daughter of a well to do family down the street, who were just thrilled to be joining houses with the Weasleys. Who wouldn't be?
"Oh yes dear," Molly gushed, "She looks beautiful. Just wait till you see-"
"Ah! No!" Percy plugged his ears and hummed. "I can't hear anything about it. Not yet!" Suddenly, something red and about the size of a soccer ball bounced off the window. Then red hair flashed by and scooped it up, Ginny Weasley racing the quaffle back into play.
Molly groaned as she saw the steam start to billow out of Percy's ears.
"My wedding is in an HOUR and they're playing quidditch?" He turned furiously to his mother. "Ginny has grass stains on her FACE!" She smiled, and patted his arm.
"Sit down for a while son," She pulled out a chair for him and left the room, "I'll get them in line."
She walked across the hall to the kitchen and hollered out the back door, "INSIDE! NOW!" The twins, Ron, and Ginny reluctantly put their brooms back in the shed and raced each other back into the house. Molly licked her thumb and managed to grab Ginny as she ran past, trying her best to rub the grass stain off her face. Ginny was trying to master the Wronski Feint, and nine times out of ten it ended with her plunging face first into the ground. "Your outfits are on your beds. PLEASE put them on and be back here in thirty minutes so your brother doesn't have an aneurism," She begged as they trotted up the stairs to their rooms.
Five minutes passed before she heard an anguished shriek coming from the room of one Ginny Weasley. The defiant eleven-year-old stomped out of her room, a pink frilly organza dress clutched tightly in her fist.
"I am NOT wearing this." She cried, her tone causing Percy to walk out into the hall to meet her.
"Oh yes you are! You're not wearing what you have on now," Percy growled, gesturing to her torn t-shirt and faded shorts.
"Why not? It looks better than what you have on." Now she was just trying to get a rise out of him. She actually really liked his suit, even though he had insisted on wearing a ruffled dress shirt beneath it.
"If you ruin my wedding Ginny Weasley, I will murder you in your sleep tonight." There faces were inches apart from each other now, the rest of their siblings watching from the sidelines. Nobody butted heads more than Ginny and Percy. "MOM!" Percy yelled, not taking his eyes off his sister.
Molly, who had been up since four that morning getting ready, was starting to wish this wedding was over. "Ginny, just wear the damn dress."
"No. Why can't I wear a suit like the boys?" Ginny crossed her arms, creasing the dress in her hands, much to Percy's dismay.
"Well why can't she, Percy?" Molly knew that trying to get Ginny to wear a dress would derail the wedding faster than if the bride decided to run away. She looked over her daughter, sizing her up. "It would take me ten minutes to alter one of Fred's old suits to fit her."
Percy grumbled but he knew he had lost this battle. An hour later, face freshly scrubbed and hair tucked neatly behind her ears, Ginny stood beside her brothers on the groomsmen's side in one of Fred's old suits.
The wedding was beautiful, and Ginny, feeling quite handsome in her new suit, had graciously decided not to ruin it.
The wedding reception was held at the Weasley's estate, affectionately nicknamed the Burrow. The food Molly had prepared earlier was laid out in a nice picnic spread, and guests were happily eating and congratulating the happy couple. Percy was much calmer with Penelope by his side.
Ginny was trailing after Fred and George as they traipsed around the party flirting with all the girls.
"Angelina Johnson," Fred crooned, "Would you like to dance with me?" The two of them had been back and forth for a few years now. She playfully swatted his hand away when he offered it, but eventually made it out on the dance floor with him.
"And you, little lady," George spun his sister around as she giggled, "How about you dance with me?"
Ginny crinkled her nose. "I'd rather dance with Angelina too, but I guess you'll do." George laughed. She put her feet on his and he danced her all around the back yard, first a tango, then a fox trot, then a waltz.
Soon it was dusk, the appearance of lightning bugs signaling the guests that it was probably time to go home soon. Party guests trickled out and Molly and Arthur began to clean up, helped only by their oldest son Bill and his wife Fleur.
Ginny was sandwich between her brothers, holding their hands as her, Fred, and George walked along the train tracks that ran through their land. Even wizards, used to doing everything by magic, were endlessly fascinated by trains, and no one more so than Arthur Weasley. He had spent countless dinners boring his children with rambling thoughts about how he thought trains worked, and how he was always so impressed with what muggles did without magic. Even though these conversations were boring, all the Weasley children had to admit, trains were pretty cool.
It was a windy night, as they walked along the tracks, and soon a gust of wind caught the brim of Fred's straw hat, lifting it off his head and carrying down the tracks.
"Shit." He whispered, "I love that hat." And he went racing off into the night to go get it. George and Ginny laughed as every time he bent to pick it up, the wind blew it a little farther out of his reach. Finally, he managed to trap it, putting Ginny in hysterics as he pretended to wrestle it to the ground. Then he stood up, waving it around like a trophy, and took a deep bow.
"What an idiot," George muttered light heartedly. Suddenly a light lit up the night as a train appeared a little way down the tracks. Fred tried to hop off to walk towards them but faltered. His foot had gotten stuck between the rails. He tugged as his leg frantically, but it wouldn't move.
The train was getting closer.
Fred bent down to untie his shoe, hoping to slip his foot out, but he couldn't get the laces loosened fast enough.
"FUCK!" Ginny could hear the fear in George's voice as he started to sprint towards his brother. She started after him, but he turned and shoved her to the ground, out of the way of the tracks. "STAY HERE!"
He picked up his pace, getting to his brother and began tugging at his leg as Fred continued to untie his shoe. Ginny saw them slip his foot out, but the train was already there, its brakes screeching horribly.
"FRED! GEORGE!" Tears were streaming down her face and she tried to run towards the tracks, towards where they had been just seconds ago, but a strong arm looped around her stomach, Bill clutching her to his chest.
He held her as she kicked and screamed, as his mother, sobbing, called for a doctor who they all knew wouldn't be able to do anything. As his father broke beside him, as his other brothers sobbed in the dirt. Bill was the one, tears streaming down his own face, who carried her up to her room, changed her into her pajamas, and put her to bed. Although he could hear from his own room that she didn't stop crying until sunrise the next morning.
Ginny Weasley's heart broke that night. Even wizards don't have a cure for that.