"Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one." –Jane Howard
"They're going to hate me," Sara tried to turn around and walk the other way but Fred grabbed her arm.
"No, they won't, and it's too late to turn back now. Your mum already knows you're staying with us. There's no one here to pick you up."
She had agreed to stay at the Burrow for the holidays. Her mother was supposed to come stay from Christmas Eve into Christmas Day and then from New Years Eve into New Years Day. Still, staying at someone else's house wasn't something that Sara was used to.
It had taken her mother a lot of convincing, though. Naturally, she was very upset after hearing about what had happened in Salem and the last thing she wanted to do was send her daughter off to another unfamiliar place, even if it was only Fred's house. Eventually, she had agreed after Sara had assured her for the millionth time that she would be safe.
"Let's go," Fred said, taking her arm and leading her off of the train, George catching up to them after saying goodbye to Katie.
"Fred, George, over here!" called a friendly looking redhead woman.
"All of your family has red hair," Sara said.
"Yeah, you didn't notice that already?" Fred asked with an amused smile.
"Well I did, but I didn't know that everyone, well, never mind," Sara shook her head. "I can't do this." She tried to turn around again, but Fred gripped her arm tighter and George grabbed her other arm.
"My mum will not bite your head off," Fred said.
"Unless you do something to get her mad," George added. "Trust us, we know from experience."
"She'll love you, though," Fred continued. "You're a lot like Percy. Well, you used to be anyway, but now you're somewhere in the middle of Percy and us. A happy medium, I guess." He grinned at her.
"I was never like Percy, was I?" Sara asked.
"You sort of were," George said sympathetically.
"But we saved you from that horrible fate," Fred added.
They had finally reached the spot where Mrs. Weasley was standing, surrounded by Ginny, Ron, Percy, Harry and Hermione.
"Mum, this is Sara," Fred said calmly.
Sara tentatively held out her hand. "It's lovely to meet-,"
She was cut off by Mrs. Weasley squealing and nearly crushing her in a hug. "Fred's told me all about you! I hope you're alright after what happened! That must have been terrifying for you!"
"Fred stayed with me the whole time I was in the hospital," Sara said, smiling at Mrs. Weasley once she had let go.
"As he should have!" Mrs. Weasley gave Fred a motherly glare. "He's a good boy, really."
George cleared his throat loudly.
"Oh, George is too, of course." Mrs. Weasley laughed before pulling the twins into a hug. She was incredibly strong for such a small woman.
Once they had reached the Burrow, everyone bounded up a rickety looking staircase, happily shouting and yelling, even Harry and Hermione, leaving Sara alone in the living room.
"Us first," Fred and George elbowed Ron out of the way as they raced up the stairs.
"Mrs. Weasley, I-, well, where should I put my things?" Sara smiled nervously when she realized she didn't know where she would be sleeping.
"Oh, of course. Fred didn't even stay down here long enough to tell you where you'd be staying." She shook her head. "You'll be staying with Ginny in her room. Is that okay? We don't really have a lot of room and we don't have any guest rooms, so-,"
"It's fine," Sara smiled warmly.
Mrs. Weasley returned the smile. "Just go straight up to the second floor. First door on the right. There's a bathroom across the hall."
"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."
"You're welcome dear. I'm making chicken for dinner. Is that alright?"
"It sounds delicious," Sara answered honestly. It was true. At home she usually cooked dinner for herself and her mother and it was never anything spectacular; always something quick and easy.
Sara began dragging her trunk towards the stairs. She was about to lift it up on the first step, when Ron appeared, thundering down the stairs like an elephant. "Do you want help?" he asked.
"I can manage," she said, brushing her hair out of her eyes.
"Okay," Ron shrugged.
"Ronald Weasley! Help her bring her things up to Ginny's room. Haven't I taught you anything about being a gentleman?" Mrs. Weasley stuck her head out of the kitchen and warningly pointed a finger at Ron.
"She said she didn't need help!" Ron mumbled.
"I don't care. Plus, sometimes a girl really means yes when they say no."
Ron looked at Sara and gave her an apologetic look.
"Don't worry. I like your mum," she said with a smile.
Ron nodded and grabbed one end of her trunk.
"For the record," Sara began, grabbing the other end and starting up the stairs behind Ron. "I'm not that confusing. Usually if I say no I mean no. I could have carried this myself. It would've been hard work, but I could have done it. Although, according to your brother, I need to learn to say yes when other people offer help. According to him, I don't have to be so independent all the time."
"Well, you don't," Ron shrugged. "I mean, wouldn't that get difficult and kind of lonely after a while?"
"Lonely?" Sara asked.
"Well," Ron began, glancing over his shoulder at her, "I just meant that you wouldn't have ever depended on anyone else, so you're not even sure who you actually can depend on when you need something."
"I know who I can depend on," Sara answered defensively.
"Yeah, but have you ever actually depended on them for anything? I'm not very good with analogies, but it's like—like a book. You may know you can read it and that it's there on your shelf for you to read if you want to, but if you don't actually read it, it's going to get dusty and old and unused and eventually maybe even forgotten about."
Sara didn't answer for a moment. They stopped outside of Ginny's room. "You may have a point, Ron."
"I do? Well, I was just trying to help."
"From the looks of it, half this family could be psychiatrists," Sara snorted.
"Well, this is Ginny's room," Ron said, throwing the door open.
"Do you knock?" Ginny yelped, sticking her head out into the hallway. "Oh, hi Sara. Come on in. Ron, you can leave. Goodbye."
Sara waved to Ron and dragged her trunk into Ginny's room. "Wow, you have a great view," she said, noticing the view of the backyard through Ginny's window.
"I know," she smirked. "I think it's the best compared to all the other rooms. Anyway, that bed is yours. Feel free to use the closet and dresser for your things. There should be enough room."
"I don't have too much anyway," Sara answered, looking around the room. "Thanks."
"Anytime," Ginny answered, smiling as she leaned against the wall and crossed her arms.
The door opened again and Fred stuck his head inside. "Hello," he said cheerfully.
"Doesn't anyone knock anymore?" Ginny threw up her hands.
"Oh, sorry," Fred said quickly. He shut the door and a knock could be heard as soon as it clicked shut.
"Come in," Ginny said, still sounding irritated, but amused. Sara smiled and opened her trunk to start putting her things away.
Fred entered the room again. "So, how's the unpacking?"
"Just started," Sara answered, blowing a puff of air out of her mouth and turning to look into her trunk. When she looked up, Fred was giving Ginny a look. Sara recognized it as one of those 'get lost' looks.
"This is my bedroom," Ginny hissed. "I have the right to tell you to leave, not the other way around."
Sara stared at them, wondering if they knew she was there.
"I just want to talk to her. That's all," Fred was saying.
"Fine," Ginny huffed. She stomped from the room, shutting the door behind her with a little extra force than needed.
"So, you're happy?" Fred asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, next to Sara's trunk. She was walking back and forth from the dresser to the trunk, unpacking her clothes.
"I just got here," she pointed out.
"But you like it so far?"
"Yes, I do. You have a lovely family."
Fred smiled. "They're crazy, but yeah I love them."
Sara nodded and gave him a small smile as she turned to put another shirt in the dresser. Before she knew it, Fred was behind her with his arms around her. "I have to unpack," she said.
"That can wait, can't it?" he asked, kissing her right next to her ear.
"It shouldn't," she whispered, "but maybe it can."
"That's what I thought," Fred said happily. She turned to face him and he kissed her gently.
"Sara," a voice yelled up the stairs. It was Mrs. Weasley's voice. "Your mother is here."
"My mother?" Sara asked, quickly turning her head towards the door. Fred groaned and buried his face into her shoulder in disappointment.
"She's not supposed to be here until tomorrow afternoon," he said.
Sara untangled herself from his arms and headed for the door. She flung it open and charged down the stairs. She found her mother at the kitchen table, while Mrs. Weasley made tea. The two women were laughing together.
"Sara," her mother said, noticing her in the doorway. She stood up and grabbed Sara in a hug. "Are you alright?" She held Sara's face in her hands and examined her thoroughly.
"I'm fine," she whispered.
Her mother hugged her again. "I don't know what I would have done if I lost you," she whispered into Sara's hair.
"It's okay, Mum. I'm fine. Let's not talk about that right now." Or ever again, really.
As Sara's mother sat down at the table again, Fred appeared behind Sara from running down the stairs. He bumped into her and grabbed her waist to steady both of them, but he didn't let go after they had regained their balance.
"Did you know," Sara's mother said, picking up on Sara's discomfort of talking about what happened and changing the subject. "Molly and I were at Hogwarts together?" She sat back down at the table.
"No," Sara answered, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't know that."
"We just realized it when your mother got here," Mrs. Weasley said, placing the two cups of tea on the table. "We hadn't seen each other in so long and the last time we saw each other we still had our maiden names. Jill was two years older than I was and she was actually the Gryffindor prefect."
"We were acquaintances during school, both being in Gryffindor and all," Sara's mother added. "But we lost touch after I left Hogwarts. Molly, I remember I caught you and Arthur sneaking out one night after hours when you were fourth years."
"Oh yes," Mrs. Weasley blushed. "You didn't report me though. You just said to not let it happen again or else you really would report me."
"Mum, you and dad snuck out?" Fred gasped.
"Yes, Fred, as hard as it may be to believe, your father and I were once teenagers as well."
"Really, because I thought you just came into this world as a responsible adult," Fred said with a laugh. "Honestly though, I can't picture you as a teenager."
Sara was still wondering what her mother was doing here so early, but before she could ask, her mother spoke. "You must be Fred." She stood up agaom and held out her hand to Fred. With one hand, he let go of Sara and reached over her shoulder to shake her mother's hand.
"That's me," he said happily. "It's nice to meet you."
"It's nice to meet you too. So, Molly, I-,"
"Mum," Sara said. Her mother looked at her. "I didn't mean to interrupt, but why are you here a day early?"
"Well," her mother blinked, "I had to make sure you were alright. I was worried sick when I heard the news, but you went right back to school after you left Salem and there was no way for me to visit you. I needed to see you as soon as possible."
Sara nodded. "But don't you have work today?"
"I took an extra day off. You're more important."
Sara nodded again, her throat suddenly constricted. "Thanks," she whispered.
Her mother smiled and reached out to squeeze her hand. "I love you, honey."
"I love you too," Sara answered. She looked up to see Mrs. Weasley smiling at her from across the room. Fred put one hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.
"So, Molly," Sara's mother said, picking up where she left off. "We haven't seen each other in so long. What have you been up to?"
Sara and Fred sat down at the table. Fred took Sara's hand in his and she hooked her foot around his, wiggling her toes and causing him to laugh. "Ticklish?" she asked.
"Very," he answered. "My foot is my weak spot."
"Arthur is working at the Ministry," Mrs. Weasley was saying. "I've been home with the kids for years."
"How many do you have?" Sara's mother asked.
"Seven," Mrs. Weasley answered with a smile.
"Seven?" Sara's mother let out a low whistle.
"Yes, Bill and Charlie live in Egypt and Romania. Bill is a curse breaker for Gringotts and Charlie works with dragons. My third oldest, Percy, is in his seventh year and going into the Ministry. The twins, Fred," Mrs. Weasley gestured to Fred, "and George are Sara's age. Ron's in his third year, and Ginny is in her second."
"You're a twin," Sara's mother smiled at Fred.
He nodded. "I am, and speak of the devil," he said as George entered the kitchen with Ron, Harry and Hermione.
"Mum, I'm starving," Ron said. "Where's the—oh we have company."
Mrs. Weasley glared at him. "Yes, we do. How kind of you to notice a few seconds too late." She turned to Sara's mother. "Jill, this is Ron and that's George, Hermione and Harry. Kids, this is Jill Sheridan, Sara's mother."
"Hello," Sara's mother waved. "You're Harry Potter?" she asked, turning to Harry.
"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too," Sara's mother said with a smile.
"George, guess what we found out about mum?" Fred asked happily as Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes.
"What?" George asked, grabbing a butterbeer and sitting down on Fred's other side.
"She and dad were caught sneaking out of Gryffindor tower by Sara's mum.
George actually choked on his butterbeer. "You snuck out of your dorm?" He looked at his mother incredulously.
"Tried to," she shrugged. "And did you ask if anyone else wanted a drink?"
"No," George said, glancing at his own butterbeer. "Does anyone want anything?"
Everyone shook their heads.
"Anyway, yes, I made your parents come back inside and go to bed. I was the spoilsport," Sara's mother added with a small laugh.
"Just like Sara," George joked. She threw a napkin at him.
"Actually," Fred said. "I've been teaching Sara a few things."
"Oh no," Mrs. Weasley groaned.
"No, it's actually good," Fred said quickly. "She's come a long way. She actually laughs and smiles now."
Sara looked down at the table and smiled at his comment.
"See?" Fred asked. "It's almost second nature for her now."
Sara looked up and bit her lip, trying not to giggle. Her mother was looking at her, an odd expression on her face, but it was a good kind of odd. Sara had always been able to read her mother well and her expression clearly said that she was glad that Sara had found someone who could make her happy and help her become a happier person.
The rest of the Christmas break flew by. Sara and her mother were even able to maintain the tradition of baking their gingerbread cookies. Only this time, they were joined by Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, Hermione and Ginny. Harry, Percy, Ron and Mr. Weasley were perfectly happy with waiting for the cookies to be done.
They decorated the cookies to look like each other and soon they had Sara, her mother, Harry, Hermione, and the entire Weasley family, including Bill and Charlie, in cookie form. Sara and her mother decorated one of Sara's dad, as always.
The remaining ten cookies were decorated to look like other people they knew. There was one decorated like Hagrid, made by George. Ginny had done one to look like Malfoy. Hermione decorated a Professor McGonagall cookie, Fred decided to do Filch, and Sara decorated a Dumbledore cookie. There were also ones made to look like Neville, Lee Jordan, Professor Trelawney, Professor Lupin, and Snape.
"This is supposed to be me?" Percy asked, peering at the cookie with curly red frosting hair and even complete with glasses. "The glasses seem a little off. One side is bigger than the other."
"Be thankful it's not a French donkey with bronchitis," George, who had decorated the cookie, said.
"Actually," Percy said, adjusting his glasses. "There has been no research shown to prove that donkeys can get bronchitis. Also, donkeys do not have a nationality. They are just-,"
"Perce," Fred said loudly. "Shut up and eat your cookie before I do it for you."
"Or I can do it," George added. "I'd be happy to bite your head off for you."
Sara laughed from her place at the kitchen table. She was examining the cookies, figuring out whose head she'd be biting off today.
"Here," Fred handed her one of the two cookies in his hand. It was the cookie decorated to look like him. The one in his hand was the cookie decorated to look like her. "I know how often you want to bite my head off," he said with a grin.
"True," she said, taking the cookie.
"Is everyone ready?" Sara's mother asked.
Sara glanced around the table. Percy had picked his own cookie, Ginny had chosen Professor McGonagall, only after a small fight with George over the Filch cookie, which George had won. Ron had chosen Snape, Harry had picked Malfoy. Hermione was staring at her Trelawney cookie with a look of annoyance, as if it were real. Sara's mother had closed her eyes and picked at random, ending up with Neville. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley picked each other, just like Sara and Fred had.
"Yes, let's do this," Ron said, tucking his legs under him on the chair.
"One," Sara's mother said. "Two...three…eat!"
Everyone simultaneously bit off their cookie's head.
It was the best Christmas Sara had ever had.