Rose was sitting on the couch in the Weasley's house. (The house was empty, because the Weasley's and Hermione—to maintain Ron from giving people chocolate frog cards again—had gone to Diagon Alley to shop for Christmas. Rose was going to go, to see Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, but she didn't want to sidetrack anyone.) She was looking at a scrap book her Aunt Emily had given her for her twelfth birthday. It was full of pictures of her mother, her aunt, and their friends when they went to Hogwarts.
Right now she was mulling over a picture of her mother Sarah and James Potter sitting and laughing on a couch. Sirius Black was hanging over the back of the couch, making interesting faces. She had a similar picture of herself, Ron, and Harry. Rose laughed lightly.
She knew this was on the night of the infamous Christmas party of their sixth year. Her mother, Sarah, and her father, Lionel, were freshly dating. And she knew the story, as she knew every story of her mother, word for word.
It was a cold winter's night on Hogwarts grounds. It was chilly outside, and there was a gentle breeze drifting through the castle.
"Hello? Lionel?" Sarah said into the phone. It was Christmas day in her sixth year, and she was wondering if Lionel Clark wanted to spend it with her.
"Hello, Sarah! How has your holiday been?"
"Okay. So, Lionel, I was wondering if you'd like to come to my house for Christmas."
"Um… well, gee, I guess so!"
"Oh… Okay! Well, go-goodbye then!"
"Goodbye!" Sarah hung up the phone and smiled.
"Sarah! So? What'd he say?"
"He said yes!" Sarah yelled. She and her best friends Lily and Emily were jumping up and down smiling.
"I'm so glad James set you two up," Lily beamed.
"Me too," Emily said.
"Yeah, I know. Thanks, guys." Sarah said, grinning. It was the annual Gryffindor Christmas party, and James, Sirius, and Remus were singing Christmas Carols at the top of their lungs.
"God Rest Ye G… Merry Gentlemen, may nothing you dismay!" James yelled, slapping Peter Petegrew on the back. Peter looked around scared. "Sorry there, Peter! As I was… saying? Singing? Moaning? Anyway, on with my song!" Sarah laughed, and Lily sighed.
"I know how to pick them…" Lily said. Emily and Sarah laughed, and Sirius came over. Sirius was very handsome, and Emily was in love with him. Well, she was smitten with him, anyway. She couldn't be in love with him. Love is an equal partnership.
"Emily, Sarah, Lily! How's life?"
"Great," Sarah said, smiling.
"Amazing," Emily giggled.
"Emily… want to dance?" Sirius asked. Emily giggled again and nodded. Sirius swept her off her feet and onto the dance floor. Sarah and Lily looked at each other and giggled.
"Hm. Looks like Emily's having a good time." James said, coming up between Sarah and Lily and putting his arms around them both. Sarah and James were best friends, and fortunately they were both Animaguses… Well, Sarah was registered—as a brown deer—and James wasn't—as a brown stag. But Animagus is an Animagus all the same. Sirius was also one of Sarah's best friends. They treated her like a little sister, and a little sister she shall stay.
"Yes, she is," Lily said. "I'm so glad Sirius is so smitten with her."
"What do you mean?" Sarah asked.
"Oh… you didn't know?" Lily asked. "Whoops…"
"Oh my God… she can't know."
"She doesn't!"
"Good!" Sarah said, her eyebrows raised.
"Sarah, James! It's time for a picture!" Sirius yelled. Sarah and James headed to the couch and flopped down on either side.
"Say cheese!" Yelled Peter.
"Cheese!" Sirius leaned over the back of the chair and stuck his tongue out, crossing his eyes. And Sarah couldn't help but laugh.
Rose smiled fondly, and then Harry plopped down next to her. "Hello, Harry!"
"Hello, Rose! What're you looking at?"
"Just a scrapbook," replied Rose. She flipped the page to a picture of James roughing up his little cousin Lionel.
"Hey… that's my dad! And who's that?"
"My father. His name is Lionel." She pointed to her father, who had black hair like his cousin, and bright blue eyes. "Our fathers were cousins."
"Whoa…"
"Didn't you know?"
"No… no, I didn't."
"Oh… I just assumed that you did. My Aunt told me stories about Hogwarts, from the time I was little. I never dreamed it was real, but… I guess I never realized no one told you the stories." Rose said, frowning.
"Here, let's see if I can show you who's who." She turned the page, which held a picture of Sarah, Emily, and Lily laughing at Peter Pettigrew, who had his head stuck in a bucket. Sirius was laughing too, while James and Remus were trying to figure out how to get him out.
"Oh… Well, at least I know half of those people," Harry said.
"Ah. This is my mom. She was your godmother." Harry peered over her shoulder at Sarah, who was laughing and clutching her stomach. "This is my Aunt Emily," Rose said, pointing at her Aunt. She was leaning on Sirius's shoulder. "And everyone else… I guess you know."
"So, your mom was my godmother, and our fathers were cousins?"
"Well, yes. Guess we're related. Third cousins, I think."
"Wait… if we're related, why did I end up with the Dursley's?"
"Oh, well… Uh… I dunno. I think… I slightly remember my father saying… no."
"Wha—what?"
"He said… no."
"He said no to his own blood?" Harry was standing now. Rose stood next to him.
"I dunno, I—"
"How could he do that?"
"Harry—"
"No, that's insane! Was it just because I'm me, or because of my father, or—what was the problem? I don't understand!"
"Harry, listen! My father was one of my least favorite men, right next to McCormick and… very questionably Umbridge." Harry laughed, kind of sadly. "But anyway, my father was… well, I don't like to curse, and you know that. But he was rude, and mean, and he hit my mother, and kept my Aunt out of a home. Plus, he left me on my own when he learned what I was—I was too, a wizard. So it really didn't surprise me when I learned he didn't give up part of a nursery for yet another wizard. Probably because of his no magic tolerance. Don't worry about it—so my father didn't give a damn, so what? He didn't give a damn about me either." Rose closed the book and flopped back down on the couch.
"Oh, geez, Rose… I'm sure he did… 'give a damn'. You know, he probably just didn't know how to show it."
"He certainly showed something… He shipped me off to live with my satanic cousin and then got himself killed."
"He… he's dead?"
"Seems like everyone we know is," Rose said, shrugging.
"Great… just another one of my family members to cross off," Harry sighed. He sat down next to her and frowned. Rose looked at him, and then smiled.
"This is depressing me. Come on, let's do something for the Weasley's. Let's clean the Burrow, eh?" Rose and Harry agreed to clean the Burrow and then got started. They didn't go near their rooms, because maybe they were already the exact way Ginny and Ron liked it.
The Living Room was first. Then the kitchen, the hen house, the dining room, the stables, and then, finally, the upstairs bathroom. "Harry, could you hand me a sponge?" Rose asked.
"Yeah, sure." Rose was handed a purple sponge with pink polka dots on it.
"Hm… they sure have interesting cleaning supplies here," Rose noted.
"Is this your first year here?" Harry laughed.
"No, I just don't clean much." Rose said. Harry got up and looked out the bathroom window.
"Uh—the Weasley's are back!" Harry said, alarmed. Rose scrambled to stand next to him, and surely enough, the Weasley's, led by Mr. Weasley, were coming up the hill that led to the Burrow.
"Harry, hurry!" Rose called. She and Harry put away all of the cleaning supplies in the linen cupboard, and then scrambled down the stairs, into the kitchen. Racing into the Living Room, Rose and Harry both flopped down on the couch on opposite ends.
"We're home!" Mr. Weasley called, coming in through the door. Mrs. Weasley and the kids raced in after him.
"Rose, Harry…" Mrs. Weasley said, "You cleaned!"
"Well, yes…" Harry said, shifting awkwardly.
"Oh, you two!" Mrs. Weasley said, wrapping them in a giant hug.
"Yeah, you two," Fred and George teased simultaneously.
"Shut your trap…" Harry muttered.
"We can't," Fred defended.
"It's just too good!" pointed out George.
Rose rolled her eyes and said, "Yeah, well if you don't shut your traps, I'm telling your mom that, instead of homework, all you did last year was work on jokes and Dumbledore's Army."
"You wouldn't," Fred said, narrowing his eyes.
"Watch me," Rose said, smiling. "Mrs. Weasley?"
"Yes dear?"
"NO!" Fred and George yelled. Rose looked at them. They shook their heads.
"Well… I guess…"
"Don't be silly. Rose, what was it, dear?"
"Well… Uh… I… I was just wondering if my Aunt Emily could stop by on Christmas Eve." Rose said. She was, actually, but that wasn't the topic she had meant to bring up. But she was quick on her feet, and a good thing too.
"Well of course she can, dear!" Mrs. Weasley said, cheerily.
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."
"Not a problem."
"Well, I should go call her." Rose said, making her way to the phone.
"We owe ya one," George mouthed.
"You bet you do," Rose mouthed back.