AN: SHE LIVES!

I've not abandoned this story. That said, I really have no excuse for how long this has taken me. I've actually had this chapter and several more written for quite some time now. I'm just easily distracted and one thing led to another and then...oh my, look how long it's been since my last post. I'm planning on posting what I have written for this story over the next week or so, but I make no promises (it'd be a pie-crust promise: easily made, easily broken).

Disclaimer: Since it's been a while, I figured I should probably state the obvious once again. I am not JKR or Joss Whedon. Therefore, I own nothing. If you recognize it, it's most likely not mine.

Chapter 15: A Day with the Weasleys

July 16, 2003: The full moon passed with no serious injury to any of the werewolves or animagi in Grimmauld Place. Remus and Tonks' first date went exceptionally well, much to the delight of all parties involved (Jessi and Sirius threw themselves into their friends' new relationship with a ferocious gusto), and they had already planned a second. Xander and Cordy, however, were still avoiding each other after their unplanned night together and subsequent morning embarrassment.

It was Charlie's last day in England and Oz still had not met any more members of his family. He and Willow planned to remedy this oversight and were going over to the Burrow for a family dinner with the entire Weasley clan (minus Percy as he still wasn't speaking with his family) later that day. At half past three a knock sounded at the door of Willow's London flat.

"I got it!" Willow called out, running a brush through her brilliant red hair. She opened the door to reveal a familiar, smiling redhead. "Hello Bill," she said with a smile of her own, stepping aside to let him in (that good old Sunnydale rule of never directly inviting someone in was still deeply engrained in her brain).

"Hi Will," said Bill. "You and Oz ready to go?"

"Just waiting for Oz to finish up."

"Actually, I'm good," replied Oz, stepping out of the bedroom. He was dressed in torn blue jeans and a black t-shirt promoting some obscure band.

"Great," said Bill, with a cheeky grin. "Let's get going then, shall we?"

"Uh—Bill?"

"Yes Will?"

"How exactly are we getting there?"

"Well," said Bill, "we have two options. We can floo over or we can do side-along apparation. Your pick."

"What's floo?" asked Oz.

"Travel by fire."

"You actually travel by fire?" said Willow, emerald eyes wide. "Doesn't that burn you?"

Bill laughed. "Of course not, Will," he replied. "It's magical fire. You throw the floo powder into it first which makes the fire virtually harmless, allowing you to safely travel through."

"Oh, right," said Willow faintly. "Forget about that. What's the other one then?"

"Apparation."

"Yeah, that."

Bill grinned playfully at Willow, turned on the spot, and with a loud CRACK disapparated. He reappeared with another CRACK a second later on the other side of the room. "That, my friends," he said as he walked back over to Willow and Oz, "is apparation."

"Nice," said Oz.

"That looks much less draining than my teleportation," commented Willow.

"Really? Teleportation drains you?" he said. "Weird. I know someone else who can teleport and it doesn't drain her at all."

Willow cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. "Hers must be an inborn power," she mused. "Mine I have to channel from the earth—very draining and very dangerous. Not planning on going back there again anytime soon."

"Long story?" asked Bill, quirking a ridiculously red eyebrow at the tiny redheaded woman.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"So…you two wanna try apparation?"

Oz and Willow communicated silently for a moment. "Yes," Willow finally replied. "I'm not quite sure how I feel about stepping into a fire on purpose, even if it is magical, so let's go with the other one."

"Alright then," said Bill, clapping his hands together. "Will, Oz, take hold of my arms and we'll be off." Once the young couple had a good hold of Bill, the taller redhead turned on the spot and all three disapparated with a loud CRACK.

XXXX

Willow, Oz, and Bill apparated with another loud CRACK onto a grassy green hillside. "Welcome home," said Bill with a smile, motioning to the house at the bottom of the hill. The house was strange, to be sure. It was lopsided, very tall, and quite obviously held together by magic. It wasn't the largest of homes, or the nicest, or the fanciest, but it felt like a home. It just exuded homey vibes that made anyone and everyone feel welcome. It looked cozy and safe (figuratively, not structurally); someplace where love and kindness mattered more than material wealth and possessions.

"It's amazing," said Oz, allowing a rare smile to grace his pale, lightly-freckled face.

"I couldn't agree more," said Willow, her emerald eyes sparkling with joy.

"Glad to hear that," said Bill, smiling back at them. "C'mon; Mum's waiting."

"Lead the way, Billy-boy," said Willow to her new favorite "brother."

Bill laughed and led the couple down the hill to the strangely welcoming house. "Mum! They're here!"

Upon hearing her eldest son's voice, Mrs. Weasley came into the front hall, wiping her hands on her apron. "Welcome dears," she said, giving Oz and Willow each a trademark Mrs. Weasley hug. "Everyone's outside. I think the children started up a game of quidditch in the orchard if you'd like to join them."

Bill brightened. "C'mon, little brother," he said, grabbing Oz's arm and dragging him outside, "I'm gonna teach you how to play the best sport in the whole world!"

"Come along, dear," said Molly, smiling at Willow as the boys ran off, "the backyard's this way."

"What's quidditch, Molly?" asked Willow as she followed the Weasley matriarch.

"It's a game played on broomsticks," she replied. "Arthur and the children absolutely love it. I'm sure one of the boys would love to teach you, if you'd like."

"I-I'd have t-to fly?"

"Of course, dear. What else would you do with a broomstick? Sweep the floor?" Molly laughed.

Willow chuckled nervously. "All the same, I think I'd prefer to keep my feet firmly on the ground, thank you." Airplanes were one thing, but to have to rely on a bunch of twigs and a stick to keep her from falling, well, she'd rather keep her feet firmly planted on the ground, thank you very much.

"That's quite alright, Willow dear," said Molly, squeezing the young woman's shoulder gently. "You can join Arthur and me with Kentley and the girls on the ground, if you'd rather."

"That sounds so much better, thank you Molly."

"Gwanny Mowwy, Gwanny Mowwy!" cried a little redheaded girl, running up to them. "Guess what?"

"What, Missy Kayla?" Molly asked, picking up the honey-eyed toddler.

"Gwampa Awfur said dat he would teach me ta pway qwiddige wike Daddy taught Tent!"

"Well, you must be a big girl then, Missy Kayla."

"Yup. Me dis much bigga den Tenzie," she said solemnly, holding her little arms apart as far as she could.

"My goodness, you're right!" exclaimed Molly.

"Granny Molly?" Willow looked down to see a little brown-haired, blue-eyed boy who looked to be slightly older than Kayla tugging on Molly's skirt.

"Yes Kent?" said Molly.

"Grandpa Arthur said that he was gonna teach Kayla how to fly, if it's okay with you."

"Of course, Kentley," she said with a smile. "Why don't you go to Grandpa's shed and get Uncle Bill's and your daddy's old kiddie brooms."

"Thanks Granny Molly," said Kent.

"Taywa go too, Gwanny Mowwy!" insisted Kayla.

"Alright," said Molly, putting Kayla down. "Run along then, you two. And be careful in Grandpa's shed!"

"Yes Granny Molly."

"Otay, Gwanny Mowwy."

"Good. Now shoo!" Not needing to be told twice, the brother and sister duo scampered off.

"Cute kids," said Willow.

"Oh, they're darlings," said Molly as she and Willow continued to walk through the backyard. "They're growing up so fast, too! Kentley is starting school this fall—his mum and her mum are insistent that he go to a muggle primary school—and Mikayla and Mackenzie are just getting so big! I feel like every time I blink they grow another inch."

"Are they twins, Mikayla and Mackenzie?"

Molly laughed. "Heavens no, dear," she replied. "I don't know if Charlie and Liana could handle them if they were. They're close enough as it is—Kayla's three and Kenzie's two."

"And Kentley?"

"Kent's five now—such a big boy. I think he's going to be a quidditch player when he grows up. His daddy could have been, if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons, and his mum's not half-bad herself."

"Not half-bad?" piped in Arthur. "The girl's bloody brilliant on a broom, Molls. Nice to see you again, Willow."

"You too, Arthur," Willow replied with a smile. She hadn't even noticed that she and Molly had arrived at the orchard until Arthur spoke. "And who's this pretty little princess?" she asked, smiling at the tiny redheaded toddler sitting on Arthur's lap.

"Me bees Tenzie!" said the curly-haired girl with a toothy smile. "Who bees yous?"

"Hello Kenzie, I'm Willow," Willow said, bending down to the grey-eyed girl's level and smiling at her. "It's very nice to meet you."

"Tenzie wike Wiwwow's haiw," Kenzie giggled. "It vury purdyful."

"Well, I like your hair too, Kenzie," she said with a smile.

"Fanks," said Kenzie. "Yous haiw's wed wike Tenzie's!"

"It is, isn't it?"

Kenzie nodded her head, her lose red curls bouncing about her shoulders. "So bees Daddy's an Taywa's an Gwanny Mowwy's an Gwampa Awfur's an Unca Biww's an Unca Pewcy's an Unca Fwed's an Unca Geowge's an Unca Won's an Auntie Ginny's. But not Mummy or Tent. Mummy's haiw bees bwak wike Mummy's name an Unca Pafoo's haiw an Unca Siwi's haiw an Unca Pafoo's name an Unca Siwi's name too an Tent's haiw bees bwown wike Auntie Jessi's haiw an Unca Moony's an wike Auntie Gwacie's an Auntie Mew's haiw too."

"Is that so?" said Willow, stifling a giggle at Kenzie's cuteness. Kenzie nodded solemnly.

"We've been working on our colors, haven't we, princess?" said Arthur proudly.

"Yup. Gwampa Awfur bees teaching Tenzie hew cowors."

"You must be a big girl, then."

"Tenzie bees dis many!" she said proudly, holding up two tiny fingers.

"That many, huh? Wow. That's pretty neato."

Kenzie scrunched up her little button nose. "What bees neato, Wiwwow?" she asked.

"Neato means awesome, kiddo."

"Oh. Neato. Neato, neato, neato, neato. Neato, neato, neato—"

"Apparently Mackenzie has found her new favorite word," said Molly dryly as Kenzie continued to chant her new word.

"Sorry," said Willow sheepishly. "I didn't know she'd like it that much."

"It's quite alright, Willow dear," said Molly.

"Yes," added Arthur. "The wonderful thing about being the grandparents rather than the parents is that we get to hand the kids back off to their parents when they get to be too much—like now," he motioned to Kenzie, who was still chanting "neato, neato, neato, neato."

"Oh, don't bother them; they look like they're having fun," pleaded Willow. "I'll watch Kenzie if you'd like."

"Are you sure?" asked Arthur, spotting Kent and Kayla making their way back across the yard.

"I'm sure, Arthur."

"Well, alright then," he said, handing the wriggling, giggling two-year-old bundle of energy over to Willow. "I'll just be over on the other side of the orchard with Kent and Kayla, if you need me. Though I know Molly's more than capable of helping you out if need be," he added, kissing his wife tenderly on her forehead.

"Go on, Arthur," said Molly, dismissing her husband. "Spend some time with Kentley and Kayla. Willow and I will be just fine with Kenzie."

"Of course, darling," he replied, kissing his wife's soft, pink cheek and heading off to meet his two eldest grandchildren.

"Auntie Wiwwow? Tenzie get down an pway, pwease?"

"Sure thing, sweetie," said Willow, letting the tiny redheaded girl climb off her lap. She proceeded to run around, laughing and playing happily in the grass. "Auntie Willow?" Willow asked Molly.

"Sorry about that, dear," said Molly. "Mackenzie tends to call any adult she really likes 'auntie' or 'uncle.' She must really like you to call you that so soon after meeting you. She seems quite taken."

"She's a cutie-pie," said Willow, smiling fondly at the grey-eyed girl twirling in the grass.

"She certainly is," said Molly.

The two women sat in silence for a while, switching between watching Kenzie play in the grass, Arthur teaching Kent and Kayla to ride a broom, and watching the Quidditch game in progress. Finally Willow spoke. "Looks like Oz is really enjoying himself," she said, watching the small redheaded figure (that she could somehow instinctively tell was her boyfriend) zoom expertly around the orchard as he tossed a bright red ball to (presumably) one of his brothers.

"Yes," said Molly. "A love of quidditch seems to run in both the Weasley and the Prewett families. Percy's the only one of my children who never really much cared for it—playing it, that is. He still loves to watch."

"Do you enjoy it?" asked Willow.

"Oh yes," said Molly. "Not as much as I used to, I'll admit. Not since my brothers died. They were exceptional beaters, Fabian and Gideon. Pranksters too. Fred and George take after them quite a bit, actually."

"You miss them terribly, don't you?"

"Don't you miss Lily?"

"Very much," said Willow, remembering not only her first best friend/ favorite big sister, but also her beloved Tara, taken from the world so suddenly.

"There's your answer, dear," said Molly with a sad, understanding smile.

Willow and Molly were prevented from wallowing in their grief by the rather fortuitous end of the Weasley quidditch game. All eight players made their way over to Willow, Molly, and Kenzie. "'Lo Mum," they all said (except for Oz, who just nodded stoically).

"Did you have a nice game?" asked Molly.

"Just spiffin', Mum," said Fred.

"Abso-bloody-lutley," added George.

"Language, George!" chided Molly.

"Honestly woman, can't you tell I'm Fred?!"

"Oh—sorry, Fred."

"Just kidding, I really am George."

"Oh, you—"

"Hi, I'm Willow. Willow Evans," said Willow, quickly defusing the potentially lethal situation.

"Enchanté, mademoiselle," said Fred, flirting playfully and kissing her hand, causing her to blush.

"I'd tell you how lovely you are, Willow, but undoubtedly Mary would find out about it and then I wouldn't have a snowball's chance in Hell at getting her back," teased George, smiling playfully at her as Fred finally let go of her small, delicate hand.

"Language, George!"

"Sorry Mum."

The only non-redheaded adult rolled her eyes. "Ignore Fred and George," said the pale, black-haired, grey-eyed woman who bore an eerie resemblance to Sirius Black, "we all do. I'm Liana Black, by the way—Charlie's girlfriend."

"And I'm Charlie," said a short (taller than Oz, though), stocky redhead with a goofy, almost Xanderish, grin. "Those three little ragamuffins running around here are ours. I see Kenzie's become quite attached to you," he added, motioning to his youngest daughter who was hugging Willow's leg tightly.

"Oh, I don't mind," said Willow. "They're so cute!"

"Be that as it may," said Liana, "they're still trouble with a capital T—all three of them."

"Yeah, they get into everything," said the youngest redheaded boy. "They climb into your trunk and—OW! Bloody hell, Gin, what was that for? You've been taking lessons from Mary, haven't you?"

"Language, Ron!"

"Sorry, Mum. But seriously, Gin, what was that for?"

"Sorry about Ron," said the redheaded girl sweetly, ignoring her tall, gangly brother. "He just doesn't know when to shut up."

"Oi!"

"Shut up, Ron," said the girl. "I'm Ginny, by the way," she added, turning back to Willow, "and this loudmouthed, obnoxious git is Ron."

"Nice to meet you," said Willow, staring at the girl who looked a lot like her, except for her honey brown eyes (almost identical to Molly's) and her much more heavily freckled skin. "I'm Willow."

"C'mon, Willow," squealed Ginny. "I'll give you the six sickle tour of the house before we head out to Diagon Alley. I've always wanted a sister!" she exclaimed as she pulled a bemusedly smiling Willow toward the Burrow.

"Hey!" protested Liana. "What am I? Chopped liver?"

XXXX

Willow and Oz were thoroughly enjoying Diagon Alley, though Oz's expression (or lack thereof, rather) gave away no such thing. As the redheaded werewolf and his girlfriend walked hand in hand down the alley, following Molly, Arthur, Ginny, Ron, Bill, and the twins (Charlie and Liana had stayed behind at the Burrow with their kids), they drank in the magnificence that was the magic of the wizarding world (despite having been around wizards and witches for the past few days, they really hadn't seen much of this strange, new world outside of Grimmauld Place). Willow enjoyed their brief trip to Gringotts (she thought that the goblins were "kind of cute," wtf?!), though Oz couldn't get out of there fast enough (people often forgot to mention it, but Goblins really weren't the most pleasant smelling beings and Oz, with his enhanced werewolf senses, couldn't stand to be around them for very long). Things went much the same at Madame Malkin's. Willow was giddy with excitement and Oz was pretty much indifferent, only buying a few sets of robes at Willow's persistent insistence. Willow and the Weasleys passed by several more shops (Willow just had to have the tiny, red owl from Eeylops Owl Emporium—she named her Lily in honor of her late sister—and Bill managed to bully Oz into buying himself a racing broom (a Nimbus 2000). Not that he took much convincing; the stoic werewolf had taken to quidditch like a fish to water) before they arrived at the most important stop of the day: Ollivanders.

"Here we are," said Molly. "Arthur and Bill will go in with you two," she said to Willow and Oz, "and we'll all meet up at Florean Fortescue's when we're done, alright?"

"Sounds like a plan, dear," agreed Arthur. "We'll catch up with you in a bit." Waving goodbye to his wife and youngest children, Arthur ushered his two eldest sons and Willow into the small, dimly-lit shop.

XXXX

A soft bell sounded as Willow and Oz followed Bill and Arthur into the shop. "Hello," said a soft, creepy voice from the shadows of the shop.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander," said Arthur.

"Ah. Arthur Weasley. Maple, fourteen inches, unicorn hair. Nice and springy. And William Weasley. Beech, fifteen inches, sphinx hair. Unusual wand. I've only ever made about nine or ten sphinx hair wands. Are your wands still working well for you?"

"Yes, sir," said Arthur while Bill simply nodded an affirmative.

"Good," said Mr. O, "very good. Ah, and this must be Mr. Daniel Weasley and Miss Willow Evans. I've been expecting you both for quite some time now."

"You have?" said Willow, perplexed.

"Yes indeed, Miss Evans, I have. Now, which would be your wand hands?"

"Oh, well I'm right handed and Oz is left handed. Is that what you mean?"

"Yes, yes. That will do nicely." Mr. O proceeded to measure Willow and Oz as he explained about the uniqueness of his wands and the way a wand was chosen. "The wand chooses the wizard—or witch—not the other way around," he said in his oddly creepy voice.

"Really?" said Oz, raising his eyebrow.

"Of course," replied Mr. O. "Here, try this one, Mr. Weasley. Oak, ten inches, unicorn hair, extra rigid. And for you Miss Evans, maple, twelve inches, phoenix feather, infallible. Give them a wave."

They tried out wands for quite some time. Finally around the sixth wand or so Oz found one that fit him: willow (appropriately enough), eleven inches, griffin feather—an "unusual combination" according to Mr. O.

Twelve wands later and Willow still had no luck finding the right wand. Twenty-eight wands later, after trying a total of forty-four wands, Willow finally found hers. "Try this one," said Mr. O in his creepy voice. "Willow, eleven and a half inches. Go on, give it a wave."

Willow barely touched the wand when she felt a rush of power surpassing anything she had ever felt before rush through her fingertips and fill her whole body, her very being, with a power she had only ever come close to when she had called all the potentials to be slayers. "This is the one," she whispered reverently as the brilliant white glow that had begun surrounding her faded away. "I can feel it."

"Oh bravo!" said Mr. O, clapping as Arthur, Bill, and even Oz (who had never actually seen just how powerful his Willow had truly become) looked at her in awe. "How curious that this particular wand, of all wands, should choose you, Miss Evans."

"Why?" asked Willow, studying her new wand carefully, mesmerized.

"Well, my dear," said Mr. O, "the core of that particular wand is the hair of a werewolf—that particular werewolf, to be precise," he added, pointing at Oz.

"Huh," said Oz. "Weird."

"Yes," said Mr. O. "Young Auror Shacklebolt donated the hair just last year. He said that you wouldn't mind."

Oz just shrugged. "I don't," he said. "It's of the good." Mr. O nodded his thanks to the stoic werewolf guitarist. "Just curious, how did he know about me?"

Mr. O smiled his creepy smile. "It showed up when he tested your hair, of course, Mr. Weasley."

"Of course," replied Oz.

"How much for the wands, Mr. Ollivander?" asked Arthur.

"You don't have to—" protested Willow.

"We can afford—" began Oz.

"Don't worry about it, Will," said Bill. "If you like, you can pay us back once you've gotten settled into our world."

"But not you, son," said Arthur to Oz. "It's tradition for a father to buy his son his first wand. No, that's all there is to it, Oz. I'm buying your wand for you and that's that. Now, how much, Mr. Ollivander?"

"Eight galleons each," replied Mr. O. Arthur and Bill paid for the wands and the four of them left the shop to meet Molly and the (underage) Weasley kids at the ice cream shop.

XXXX

Molly began cooking dinner almost immediately when they got back to the Burrow, yelling at anyone who got in her way, especially Liana (apparently she had tried to help once when she and Charlie had first started dating and ended up burning a pot of water. She said it was all her dad's fault, her poor cooking skills came from him). Willow spent the rest of the afternoon showing off her new wand and practicing spells. She was pleasantly surprised to discover that with her wand she was able to do more difficult spells with far less effort than she was without one. Arthur and the boys (including Oz and Kent) were "recruited" to help set up the tables outside and set them for dinner, while Liana and Ginny were relegated to "kiddie watching," that is, keeping an eye on Kayla and Kenzie.

Dinner that evening was an…experience. Molly returned Oz's silver DOW necklace to him and he gave it to Willow for safekeeping, since he couldn't touch it himself. Willow and Oz both learned everything anyone (except perhaps James Potter or Oliver Wood) could possibly want to know about quidditch (Oz discovered that his newfound love of the sport was something shared by his entire family). They listened to Molly plead with Bill to cut his hair and get rid of his fang earring, heckle Charlie and Liana for refusing to get married, scold Arthur for asking Willow and Oz too many questions about muggle things ("What exactly is the function of a rubber duck?" asked Arthur. "To keep kids from eating soap while they take a bath," replied Oz), and downright screech at the twins about something called Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

All in all it had been a wonderful day. Both Oz and Willow found that they immensely enjoyed spending time with Oz's newfound family and they were both anxious to see them all again. They would miss Charlie dearly when he headed back to Romania in the morning and they were even looking forward to meeting the illusive Percy Weasley, despite what the Weasley siblings (mostly the twins, Ron, and Ginny) had told them about him. As Willow drifted off to sleep late that night, snuggled tightly in the strong arms of her soul mate (Soul mate?! Where did that come from? thought Willow), she couldn't help but think that this was the perfect ending to a perfect day.