A/N: Onward to The Burrow!

Chapter 3: The Burrow

(Late August 1989)

August passed far more quickly for Eve as she was instructed on how to properly cut Gurdyroots, peel yew bark, and stew herbs like sage and lemongrass each day in the dingy cellar. It wasn't easy work; when she made a mistake, she was instructed to start over and do it again - and again. Assisting Severus Snape with his potions was far from entertaining, but once she got the hang of basic preparations, it had become a methodical and almost soothing task.

Eve had learned a lot about potions in those few weeks, mostly about the properties of ingredients rather than actual brewing; but between some of the potions books at Spinner's End and asking her father questions when he was in a fair mood, Eve had developed an interest for the subject even though she had yet in understand many its aspects.

But the learning experience did not change the fact that Eve was eagerly awaiting her relocation to the Weasley home, as her belongings were readily packed in the a old, beaten suitcase days before she had to carry it down the stairs and over to the fireplace in the living room. Apparently, they would be traveling by Floo Network. She had Flooed once before through the International Network from America to England, but those fireplaces had been huge and she hadn't traveled alone, but now, she would have to use it by herself.

After Severus explained the process of Floo travel and had her repeat the information back to him twice, he gave her a nod of approval and handed her a small handful of the sandy powder. Holding her suitcase awkwardly in one hand and the powder in the other, Eve stepped into the fireplace.

"The Burrow!" she shouted, throwing the powder to her feet. With a sharp twisting sensation, Eve felt herself flying through the Network, she saw flickers of light from the fireplaces of other homes before being spat out through one of the openings. Not well-braced enough for the impact, she tumbled onto scuffed hardwood floor.

"Goodness! Are you alright dear?" a voice asked from above her. Eve looked up to see a short, stout woman with a mane of frizzy red hair staring down at her. The woman offered her a hand, but Eve shook her head and stood up on her own. She brushed the dust off of her white button shirt.

The room around her was wood-based; the floor and the walls were the same earthy color, and nearly every inch of this sitting room was occupied by something. A love seat and several armchairs were crammed into the small space, none of them matching another. The walls were lined with shelves upholding books and knick knacks, or held pictures or paintings of some sort. The place was definitely cluttered, but Eve would not consider it messy or unclean. From where she stood, she could see part of the adjoining room (which appeared to be an equally cluttered kitchen) and the wall of a staircase leading up to another floor. All in all, Eve's first impression of the Weasley house was that of visually noisy charm. A far cry from the impersonal and somber ambiance of Spinner's End.

There was a roar from behind her and her father stepped out of the large fireplace. He, of course, was steady on his feet and free from soot as he emerged.

"Molly," he greeted the woman.

"Severus," she returned in the same formality. She then returned her attention to Eve with a warm smile. "and you must be Evangeline." Her voice was strong and slightly deeper than most women she had met, and there was the slightest tone to it that she could only describe as motherly.

"Please call me Eve."

"Of course, dear," Mrs. Weasley smiled brilliantly, crow's feet appeared around her eyes revealing both her age and loving nature. Eve gave her father a pointed look. See, even she will call me Eve. Her father gave her a slight scowl. He had apparently understood her silent accusation.

Molly either ignored or was ignorant to this exchange, for she continued to speak with the same soft tone.

"The children are all outside, I'll round them up to meet -"

"Mum, the boys won't let me play Quidditch with them!" a voice whined in a high-pitched tone, interrupting the conversation. A small girl a few years younger than her rounded the corner. Her hair was straight but tussled upon her head in the same shade of fiery red as her mother's, her soft brown eyes were shined with angry tears. Eve did not know what quid-ditch was, but she assumed it was some sort of game.

"Well, there's one of them at least." Molly tutted more to herself than anyone else. "This is my daughter, Ginny - Ginny, this is Eve Peters and her father Professor Snape." Eve found it odd to hear her father referred to as 'professor'. She mentally shrugged it off and managed to give the girl a half-hearted wave.

A light of recognition filled the girl's features, the tears in her eyes had quickly disappeared.

"Finally, I won't be the only girl in this house!" she exclaimed cheerfully. She approached Eve with such a fever of excitement that Eve feared that the smaller girl was going to hug her, but the girl didn't not encroach upon her space further than about a foot.

"Ginny why don't you show Eve her room? I'll speak to your brother's later."

"Okay, mum," Ginny replied with unwavering excitement, and Eve assumed that the Quidditch issue was now forgotten. The girl picked up her suitcase before eve could reach of it. "Come on! Let's go," Ginny spoke over her shoulder as she had already started towards the stairs. Eve helplessly followed in silence.

The stairs were long and narrow and stretched and twisted up several levels - far more than one would ever expect a home to have. Eve craned her neck to try and see the top, but it was nearly impossible. She followed the girl up three floors, each of the landings bled into the next stairway, only holding a door or two on each level. The girls stopped abruptly in front of a single door on a landing of its own. Ginny twisted the doorknob with her free hand and nudged it open with her foot. It swung open with little effort.

The room was only slightly larger than her one at Spinner's End, and it too was full of hodgepodge furniture and slightly cluttered with odd and ends lined on the shelves and window sill.

"This is my brother Bill's room, but he's moved to Egypt now, so you can use it," Ginny said with a huff and she lugged the suitcase onto the twin bed.

"Thank you."

"Oh good, you do speak," she laughed, sitting on the bed next to the suitcase. "You don't talk very much, do you?"

"I do… just, not at the moment, I guess," Eve shrugged as she walked over to the small window; she had seen something orangeish zoom past. She peered out the window and was taken aback by what she saw. It was a boy, several years older than her, flying through the air on a broom; his hair was a lighter shade of red, but he was unmistakably related to the girl on the bed. Upon further inspection, she saw a couple more figures soaring through the air; she couldn't not make out any discernable features other than their various shades of red hair.

"You can actually fly on brooms?!" Eve exclaimed with a snicker as she envisioned the Halloween green-skinned witch flying under a full moon.

"Duh, how else do you fly?" Ginny snorted, but upon seeing her expression, the girl seemed to blank.

"You...haven't flown a broom before?"

"No," Eve sighed, "I didn't know I was a witch until this summer."

"Professor Snape didn't tell you?" she asked, confusion etched in each word.

"I didn't know him until this summer, either."

"Oh," Ginny said. "Your mother wasn't a witch then?"

Eve winced slightly at the mention of her mother, but she shrugged. "I don't think so; I was raised in the non-magical world."

"Wow! Dad is going to ask you so many questions when he gets home. He loves Muggle things, like ' lecttronics." Eve still did not like that word, but the girl did not say it in a condescending or negative tone.

"Electronics?" Eve clarified. Ginny nodded vigorously. Eve stared back out the window, watching the red-haired children fly around as one of them threw a ball to the other. How many children did this family have?

"What are they doing?" Eve asked.

"Playing Quidditch," Ginny answered darkly, the anger in her face reappearing. "They always leave me out of it."

"It's a game played on brooms?"

"Yes and it's only the best game ever! I can teach it to you sometime." Eve nodded to her in agreement, still staring out the window. Quidditch was hypnotic to watch.

From floors below, they could hear Mrs. Weasley calling them, her voice calling quite clearly for the distance. (Well, she was calling Ginny, but Eve figured that the call was for both of them; after all, she had not said her goodbyes to her father.)

The two girls mades their way back down the stairs. On a second passing, Eve focused on the the other floors with more scrutiny. She knew nothing of architecture, but something told her that the house's structure would be impossible to accomplish without some sort of magic. While the floors didn't feel slanted, they didn't appear to be level either.

The two adults had migrated to the kitchen, and her father looked slightly annoyed, but thankfully not angry.

"Evangeline, a word before I leave," Severus Snape said with a level of impatience.

"Okay."

The two of the stepped into a nook in the kitchen where a large bay window overlooking the backyard. Eve could still see the the other Weasley's when they swooped low to the ground. She could hear Ginny leave the house though the kitchen door to the outside as it creaked loudly. Her father, however, was fully focused on her and Eve could help but feel like she was in trouble.

"Now I am only going to tell you this once, so listen carefully," her father spoke quietly and softly, yet his words were anything but. "You will listen to Molly and Arthur Weasley and you will obey the rules that they set, you will focus on your studies without complaint, and you will be perfectly well-behaved."

Eve had to force back a scowl. Eve doubted that she had given the man much reason to believe that she would run amok through The Burrow like a wild animal.

There was a sudden bang out in the distance, loud enough for the both of them to turn to look out the window. The field where the boys had been playing Quidditch was now full of a blue, hazy fog. She could hear several shouts from outside, followed by the slam of the kitchen door and the enraged shouts of Mrs. Weasley. Eve then realized that her father's concerns may not have been completely unfounded.

"I don't think the standards will be too high…" she said before she could stop herself.

"And none of that cheek," he admonished, pointing a bony finger in her face. This time his words were sharper, but there was hint of something in his expression that Eve could only have guessed to be amusement, but it had vanished far faster than she could muse itover. "Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Eve nodded.

"Good." He gave Eve a light pat on the shoulder before leaving the kitchen nook.

From outside the kitchen door, Mrs. Weasley's voice grew in volume. She had returned to the house.

" - And don't come in until you have washed it all off. And I mean all of it!" she shouted as she opened the door, then quickly slammed it behind her.

"I'm sorry about that," the woman said apologetically. "Keeping all those boys in line is difficult during the summer when they are all here…"

"Molly," her father interrupted. "I do believe that I'll be taking my leave."

"Oh," Mrs. Weasley huffed, dusting herself off. Eve noticed that her smock was now lightly streaked with blue, as were her hands and bits of her face. "You wouldn't like to stay for tea then?"

"No thank you. I have plenty of things to finish before the beginning of term," he answered dismissively.

"Ah, yes, of course," she nodded, still looking quite exasperated. "Well then, have a lovely semester."

Severus let out a scoff that Eve supposed could be passed off as an abrupt laugh as he turned away from them, back into the sitting room.

"Bye," Eve croaked out awkwardly after him. He did not return the sentiment.

With her father gone in a flurry of smoke and ash, Eve stared uncomfortably at the woman in front of her, unsure of what to do.

"Why don't you make yourself comfortable dear," she said sweetly. "I'll make you some tea while we wait for the children to clean themselves off. I'm sure the boys would love to meet you."

Eve didn't not have the heart to tell the woman that she disliked tea. Besides, it was amazing to watch the woman wave her wand and charm the teapot and a cup to move on their own accord. When Severus Snape made tea, he made it by hand. This was far more exciting. Eve sat down in one of the many seats crowded around the large kitchen table and marveled at the pure rush of magical energy that filled the the strange and exciting home.

Eve determined that this type of magic was something that she loved.

Arthur, Molly, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny.

Eve repeated these names to herself several times in order to memorize them. Molly and Arthur had insisted that she use their first names, since they felt it would be all too formal to use 'Mr' and 'Mrs' while she lived with them.

Bill was the eldest, but he was in Egypt so she doubted she would be meeting him any time soon.

Charlie was almost an adult at sixteen and seemed pretty good-natured. Percy was the quietest of them and the most serious.

Fred and George were twins were loud and mischievous (it had been one of them whom had set off that obnoxious blue cloud.) And after several of their pranks, Eve found herself disliking them quite a bit.

Ron was the youngest boy and slightly boorish, which she suspected was the result of having five older brothers.

Then, of course, there was Ginny, the youngest and only girl of the family, who seemed to cling to Eve's presence like she was some sort of extraordinary creature.

Eve struggled to process and separate each red-headed family member and the entirety of The Burrow. Ginny had given Eve a lengthy tour of their home; from the tiny cellar where they stored canned vegetables, to the attic and the ghoul that haunted it, and every bedroom, bathroom, and closet in between. While Ginny was quite thorough in her tour, she spoke with such speed and excitement that Eve had found it very difficult to keep up with her constant yammering.

On top of the vast, winding corners of the house, Eve had also been shown the back yard - complete with a vegetable garden, chicken coop, a makeshift Quidditch, and a large shed where Arthur kept all of his non-magical gadgets. From the outside, Eve noticed that the home looked even more crooked and structurally unsound than it had from the inside. It leaned impossibly to the left, leaving no other explanation other than magic for why it was able to stand.

The next couple days were chaos for her as she was not used to living with such a large family. That, combined with the perplexing mix of British and magical living, was a cultural whiplash for her. Luckily, she knew that things would settle down at the end of the week once the older boys left for Hogwarts and she would be able to collect herself again - though that wouldn't stop Ginny. The eight-year-old had been clinging to her like a parasitic leech for the past three days and it was driving her mad, though she didn't have the heart to snap at the girl who seemed so lonely.

Luckily, by the third day with the Weasleys, she got some reprieve as Ginny had been cornered by Molly to spend the day cleaning her room, which she had apparently avoided for several weeks. Eve took that opportunity to head outside on her own.

It was a beautiful summer day, slightly cooler than she would have expected for late August, but surprisingly devoid of clouds, leaving an endless ocean of blue sky. Eve wandered aimlessly through the long grass as she gazed at the sky and the softly swaying trees.

"Wotcher, Eve."

Eve stopped abruptly to see the deep auburn hair of Charlie Weasley. The teen sat in the tall grass with some sort of clippers in one hand and the bristles of his broom in the other.

"Excuse me?" Eve asked. "What did you just say?"

"...Wotcher?" Charlie answered, tilting his head slightly as he observed the concerned look on her face. "Oh! It's slang for 'what are you up to?'"

"Ah, so it's a British thing?"

"More of a Cockney thing, really," he shrugged. "I have a friend that says it all the time. Kinda rubbed off on me, I guess."

"In America, we say 'sup?'," Eve said, jerking her head slightly upward as she had seen many of the teens back in Wisconsin greet each other.

"'Sup?" Charlie mimicked, his shaggy hair flopping in his eyes as he did. He could pull the gesture off a lot better than she could.

"Not much, just…"

"Escaping the twins?"

Eve sighed with relief; at least she wasn't the only one who noticed.

"That and Ginny...What are you doing?"

"Just trimming up the broken ends of my broom; I've got to keep it in good condition for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I'm their Seeker," he said cheerfully.

"That's the one that goes after the tiny winged ball, right? The one worth a lot of points?" Eve asked, trying to wrack her brain on what Ginny had told her about Quidditch the day before.

"The Snitch. And yes, that's my job," he said this with an air of pride that only enhanced his grin.

"It's funny," Eve mused aloud. "I didn't even know you could fly on broom until I saw you guys out on them the other day. It strange knowing that there is a whole sport involving them."

"You mean, you've never been on a broom?" Charlie exclaimed with an expression akin to horror, as though he couldn't imagine such a predicament.

Eve stared down at the ground with embarrassment.

"Well, I guess it makes sense," he coughed. "Mum did say you grew up in the Muggle world before living with Professor Snape, and I don't think he fancies flying…"

Eve nodded. She tried to imagine her father on a broom and it made her snort with quiet laughter. Charlie also let out a soft chuckle.

"Well, I suppose we'll have to change that, won't we?" Charlie said as he stood up. "C'mon, I'll let you use my broom."

Eve was taken aback; she had not expected this turn of events. A well of excitement and fear suddenly filled her. What if she wasn't any good? What if she somehow broke it or fell off? She was used to the scrapes and bruises that came with skateboarding, but not from falling a hundred feet in the air.

Charlie must have seen the fear in her face, for he quickly assured her that he'd make sure she remained close to the ground. It was with this promise and level of caution that made Eve swallow her fear and agree to learn.

She felt a bit foolish as she straddled the wooden broom as Charlie had shown her. Once he had shown her how to properly grip the broom and adjusted her stance, he gave her a nod of approval.

"Okay, now kick lightly off of the ground. The broom knows what to do," he said as he stared at her expectantly. But Eve did not move. Again, feeling foolish, she decided to do a slight jump.

And she did not come back down.

Quite the contrary, Eve found herself rocketed into the air, shooting off the ground at a terrifying speed. But before she was sent into the the endless sky, she felt a sharp tug on both her legs. Eve looked down to see Charlie gripping onto her, his bulky frame preventing her from going any higher. Nonetheless, she was still nearly six feet from the ground. She steadied herself on the sliver of wood, trying not to fall off after immediately being airborne.

"You okay?" Charlie asked, his grip still strong.

"I think so…"

"Alright," he huffed. "Now will it to go forward."

"Will it?" Eve asked in terrified confusion.

"Think about going forward and the broom will do it."

Eve wanted to ask how a broom knew silent commands without a sentience, but also feeling like a complete moron who needed to be held down while flying, she simply did as he asked. The broom inched forward. Charlie moved with her, his grip still firm on her left leg.

It must have been her obvious nervousness, because he continued to hold on to her leg as she slowly flew around the Weasley's makeshift Quidditch field. It was a surreal experience - gliding through the air, her feet never touching the ground - it was an amazing sensation that far outweighed skateboarding.

"I'm going to let go now," Charlie said. Memories of her mother saying those exact words when Eve was learning to ride a bike filled her mind. Instead of feeling heartbroken, as she usually did when thinking of her mother, she couldn't help but smile. It was a pleasant reflection of the moment.

"Ok," Eve replied, with the same air of determination she had on that dusty road in Wisconsin. She felt the boy let go of her leg as she continued to glide on her own. She didn't fall.

She felt accomplished. She felt free. And with a thumbs-up from Charlie, she braced herself and and went faster.

"I"m sorry I wasted your entire afternoon," Eve said sheepishly to the older Weasley boy. The afternoon sun had begun to hang low on the horizon, signaling that it would soon be time for supper. The two of them headed back towards the towering house.

"It wasn't wasted," Charlie shrugged. "I've taught all my younger siblings how to fly. I'm totally used to it. Besides, you're a fast learner; I honestly didn't have to work a whole lot."

"You were a good teacher; you could make a job of it."

"Me? A Professor?" he laughed. "I have no interest in that sort of thing… unless it was Care of Magical Creatures, I guess. Naw, I'd rather do something strictly with animals, like hippogriffs or dragons…"

"Really?" she asked in amazement as the walked along the wooden, mismatched boards of The Burrow.

"Yeah. In fact, there is this dragon preserve in Romania that I've -" his words were cut short by the sudden a rapid fire of small pellet-like object raining down upon them. Each one burst open, covering them both with a green and sticky substance. There were howls of laughter coming from above them. Through the goop on her face, Eve caught a glimpse of the Weasley twins at their window, laughing at her expense.

A red-hot anger boiled in her stomach. Normally, Eve thought she was a passive person; she wasn't much bothered by pranks or taunts that she had been subjected to in elementary school. It took a lot to get under her skin. However, Fred and George had been subjecting her to their pranks at a near-constant basis since she had arrived; exploding sparks under her chair, turning her hair purple, setting off foul smelling dungbombs in the stairwell, and even a biting teacup, had been targeted at her. The amount of these awful pranks had built up so quickly that Eve had begun seething with rage.

She had only felt this burning sensation once before, which lead to breaking Kenny Davis' nose in the second grade. He had been relentless in his antics too…

"I'll murder you both!" Charlie shouted, wiping the sludge out of his eyes.

"I volunteer George first!"

"No way! Fred is far more easy to catch. Kill him first!" The twins shouted in mock fear, they were far from bothered by their older brother's threats. Eve hated them and she desperately wanted to retaliate - or at the very least shout at them.

But she held her tongue. She had to behave, after all.

She held her tongue as Charlie ran into the house. She held her tongue as Mrs. Weasley helped clean the disgusting muck off of her. She held her tongue while Mrs. Weasley shouted at the twins with a terrifying anger. She held her tongue when asked if she was sure she didn't want dinner. And, she held her tongue as she marched off to Bill's bedroom.

Just as she was about the climb the last set of stairs, she noticed the bedroom door on the third floor was ajar. Light poured into the hallway, illuminating the hardwood floor with a golden glow. Eve thought all of the Weasleys were at dinner, but perhaps one of them left their oil lamp on. She edged towards the door and peered in.

This bedroom was cluttered with books. Most of them were where they belonged on the shelves, but there were on the bed, the desk, and even on the floor. Most of them looked old and thoroughly second-hand. In the corner of the bedroom sat Percy, the Weasley she knew the least about (well aside from Bill.) He appeared to be writing notes with a quill.

"Hmmm?" he asked looking towards the door. His eyebrows raised in mild surprise as she tried to slink away.

"Sorry!" Eve apologized. "I thought maybe you accidently left a light on when you went down to dinner… Why aren't you at dinner?"

"Why aren't you?" he returned with a level of smugness.

"I'm avoiding Fred and George."

"Ah," he huffed sympathetically. Eve nodded awkwardly as she watched him scribbled something down. "I fully understand, I'm usually the butt of their jokes."

"You are?" Eve asked curiously.

"Yes," he answered firmly. "Well, come on in. I'd rather you not creep on me from the doorway."

Embarrassed, Eve nudged the door open and cautiously walked in.

"So, what are you doing up here?"

"Homework," Percy sniffed. "I completely forgot to add a critical point to this Monkswood essay. Professor Snape is…" he looked up at her, stopping himself from saying something. She could see him struggle for a different word "...not a lenient man."

"I hardly know him," Eve assured the teen. "But I know that is not inaccurate."

"Merlin, you even speak a bit like him, you know? Except the accent and all…" Percy chuckled. "Are you sure you aren't the result of some sort of cloning potion that Professor Snape created?"

Eve stared at him blankly for a few seconds as Percy continued to chuckle to himself, but the boy quickly noticed the look on her face and he immediately stopped. His cheeks and ears turned a bright red.

"Sorry," he apologized softly. "I'm really bad at making jokes."

Eve shrugged it off. He apologized quickly and admitted his lack of tact, even though it wasn't especially necessary. That was more than easy to forgive.

" 'Sokay," Eve reassured him. The red in Percy's face faded but still lingered as he turned back to his work.

"Can I look at your books?" she asked. Even though she was sick of reading, she still needed to look up what a Hippogriff was.

"Yeah, go ahead."

Eve slowly scanned through the texts in the shelf. None of them seemed to be about magical creatures. Quidditch through the Ages, Rune Meanings: an Explorative Research, Hairy Snout, Human Heart, The Fifth and Sixth Goblin Rebellions, Standard Book of Spells: Grade 2, and

Beginning Potion-Making.

This was not she had been looking for, but it certainly peaked her interest. She had learned a little bit of potions through her father, and she sorely wanted to learn more than the scraps Severus Snape had taught her.

She pulled the book from the shelf and opened its very worn binding.

"Careful with that!" Percy exclaimed, startling her. "...Sorry, but that has to be kept for Fred and George to use...and Ron…" the flush of color returned to his facial features. Eve felt her face flush as well; one did not have to be exceptionally astute to conclude that the Weasley family lacked money (they did have to feed so many children after all.) Eve suddenly felt bad for becoming an extra mouth for them. She both wondered and hoped that they were receiving some sort of compensation for allowing her live with them.

"Don't worry, I'll be careful." She made sure to open the book slowly and carefully. The binding creaked as she did. Even with the best of care, she highly doubted it would survive the Weasley twins.

Eve was really excited to finally see the recipe for a potion. She had opened to one on Chapter 3: The Coloring Solution. Eve read through the ingredients and instruction for several minutes before cracking a smile. She had an idea…

"Percy," she said, walking over to his desk. The teen laid down his quill with a sigh and turned to her. "Can you make this potion?" He adjusted his glasses and read the pages she was pointing to.

"Well, of course," he replied haughtily. "It's a second year potion."

"I figured as much," Eve said as she rolled her eyes. "I mean, can you make it here. Right now?"

"Right now?" Percy asked in surprise. "I know making potions doesn't activate the Trace, but it's discouraged to brew them outside of school...and why that one?"

"Would you brew it if I told you it was for a prank on Fred and George?"

Percy stared up at her from behind his wire-framed glasses, his expression unreadable. Then, just when she believe that he would tell her off, he gave her a large grin.

"Do tell…"

As Eve explained her plan, his smile continued to grow.

"Well, I suppose I still have some ingredients from last year and I think mum keeps a few sludgeweeds in the cellar for her cleaning potion… and I suppose that they could all happen to fall into my cauldron in this specific order. All accidental, of course."

"So, when should this all accidently happen?"

"Tomorrow morning?"

"Okay," Eve said as she headed for the door, leaving the potion book on the bed.

"Oh, Eve?"

"Yeah?" she asked, stopping at the doorway.

"What color did you want to use?"

"The brightest, most vomit-inducing shade of pink," she answered with an impish grin.

She could still hear Percy's laughter as she shut the door to Bill's room.

A/N: Eve is a pretty easy going girl...but she doesn't put up with incessant asinine pranks. (I actually really like the Weasley twins; don't worry, she wont hate them forever!) Tell me what you think!