Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Order of Things

3

Growth Spurts

Ron was uncomfortable. For the first time in a long while he was chewing his food slowly without being prompted by Mum. Sitting across from me at the table, dressed in the light linen we've all adorned since arriving in Egypt, he kept glancing around the room in between bites. To the left, he'd glance at Ginny. To the Right, he'd glance at Bill. Occasionally, he'd look over his shoulder at the wall behind him. But whatever he was looking for, he found no answer.

Fred and George were busy talking over my head from their spots on either side of me. Egypt had served as a spark of their imaginations and they were currently discussing building a maze at Hogwarts with some of the more harmless booby-traps that Bill had shown us. Kind of like a tourist attraction, and charging our peers three sickles a piece to try to escape from it. They were under the impression that Filch would be thrilled by their entrepreneurship. Deep in their conversation, they hadn't noticed Ron's shifty looks as he fidgeted in his chair.

Finally getting fed up with what was making him uncomfortable, Ron looked straight at me. Which he had been avoiding doing for the majority of the meal. "Is there something on my face?" He asked around his mouthful.

I had to blink a couple of times to escape my thoughts. "No", I answered slowly.

My answer did nothing to appease Ron. Which made sense. My answer didn't actually explain anything to him. "Bloody hell, woman", Ron complained. "Then why are you staring at me?"

I took my time formulating a response; watching Ron turn a bit red as he waited. And his flushed complexion wasn't due to the Egyptian desert heat. Of course, I knew the reason why I was staring. It was something I hadn't been fully conscious of until this morning. But it was an observation that had been nagging me from the sidelines of my mind for days. "You're taller", I commented.

The two words that left my mouth weren't enough for Ron. He sent an annoyed look in Bill's direction as if to ask, 'do you see what I'm dealing with?' But Bill was distracted by Percy chewing his ear off about the study system he had developed for his NEWT exams this year. With no support from anyone else in the room, Ron looked back in my direction. "And?" he asked for more of an explanation. Fair enough. I had been staring at him all morning; ruining his appetite.

"You're older. Less baby fat", I tried to explain why I was staring. Gone was the boy who constantly had dirt rubbed into his nose. His hair had grown longer; past his ears and leaving behind childhood for adolescence. But exactly when did this happen? It felt like it had occurred overnight. Ron looked like a teenager. Making me feel my age. "I think you're taller than me". I had always known Ron would one day have more inches than I do. Vaguely, I could remember something being written about Ron growing taller than Fred and George, and I had stopped being the same height as my fellow triplets when we were twelve. So, it was just a matter of time. But now that I was faced with an older Ron, I wasn't ready.

Ron rolled his eyes. It was a contrast to last year, where if I had commented on his growth, he would have puffed his chest out; pleased as punch. Just another sign that teenage Ron was now in control. "You say that like it's a big accomplishment", Ron snarked.

Frowning, I opened my mouth to retort but didn't get the chance. From either side of me, Fred and George started chortling. At some point when I was talking to Ron, they must have finished their maze conversation and listened in on ours. "He told you. Huh, Jolly Holly?" Fred jokingly asked as he started ruffling the hair on top of my head with a heavy hand. He was using enough force that my whole head bobbed. Making me worry about the phoenix feather Dumbledore had given me. Still confused about why I had been given it in the first place, I had taken to wearing it tied in my hair behind my right ear. Hopefully, it wouldn't be dislodged under Fred's decision to restyle my hair.

Almost the same color as my hair, feather blended in nicely. Most of the time it was like it wasn't even there. The only reason I wore it was because I worried that it might be like when Dumbledore had gifted Hermione his copy of the Beedle and Bard in the Deathly Hallows. I didn't want to forget about what could potentially be a piece of the puzzle. Fred retracted his hand when George started talking. And patting my hair once assured me that the feather was still in place, so no harm done.

"I think it's a bigger accomplishment when someone doesn't grow past five feet", George said. Grinning when I sent him a stink eye. Right, because being short is a choice.

Snorting unattractively, Ron was happy to keep the conversation going now that it was clear that he wasn't the one under fire. "Accomplishment? She still needs to ask for help when she wants something from a top-shelf".

Rolling my eyes, I lamented the fact that Ron was no longer my cute impressionable little brother. Oh, Merlin. It wouldn't be long before he started snogging Lavender Brown and… and…. I didn't need to think about that. "That's a short-term problem", I tried to point out. And immediately regrated my choice of wording.

"Are you planning on rising to the occasion? Perhaps a late growth spurt." Fred asked in good humor. "I think you might be a little old".

"I think she didn't eat enough vegetables when we were kids", George chimed in as he started to shake his head at me in mock disappointment. "You should have listened to Mum".

"I think", I started; keeping my voice flat. "That in two years, it won't matter if I'm short. Anything out of reach I can get through magic". I mean, really. It wasn't like being short was a hardship. Especially when Accio would solve most of the trouble.

This time, the person who ruffled my hair was George. "You keep telling yourself that, Holls". The placating tone of his voice only irked me more. Then George added, "And don't worry. When you're manning the till at our joke shop, Fred and I will make sure you have a stool to stand on".

"One in the employee bathroom too", Fred added. "You know, so you can reach the sink".

"I'm not that short!" I tried to interject. I can reach a sink just fine, thank you. This was one bit that they didn't need to explore. Especially when they themselves wouldn't be the tallest in our family.

"What joke shop?" Ron asked out of curiosity. It wasn't his intention, but that question spared me from being the butt of quite a few more short jokes.

In sync, Fred and George beamed at our little brother as they both threw an arm over my shoulders. "That's what we're going to do after Hogwarts", Fred said.

"Open a joke shop", George clarified.

"Sell our inventions", Fred continued.

"Help others wreak havoc on the deserving and unsuspecting".

"It's the right thing to do".

"For a modest fee of course". Ron looked like he was started to get whiplash as he looked back and forth from Fred and George. Being completely immune to them by this point, I didn't bother to look in the direction of whose speaking. Instead, I looked straight ahead as I listened to my fellow triplets go on and on.

"After all, we need to make enough money to feed Holly". Fred made a comment that made me sigh. They make me sound like I'm useless.

"And keep a roof over her head".

"Clothes on her back".

"New shoes once in a while".

"Or", I broke in before this could go on much longer. "I could get a job and pay for my own food, residence, and clothes". I flexed my voice to make it sound like the idea I was suggesting was a novel one. Because who would have thought that their sister who had been financially independent in another life would be able to do the same thing again?

Sadly, Fred and George were ready for my counter stance to their plans. Which… I wasn't entirely sure was a joke or not. They didn't really think that I would need to be dependent on them in adulthood, right? I mean, we could be roommates. That would be fine. But I didn't need them to hold my hand.

"And what job would that be, Jolly Holly?" Fred asked, squeezing my shoulder slightly.

"You've never talked about what you want to do after school before", George added.

I opened my mouth to answer. But no words came out. It was then I realized that I had never considered what life would be like after the Deathly Hallows. Not possible careers or future plans. Aspirations. Dreams. Beyond seeing Fred survive the war, I had none. No inkling of what I wanted to do with my life or what I wanted out of it. And… why was that? But Fred, George, and Ron were waiting; all staring at me in expectation. One of them was more genuinely curious than the others. No need to state who.

"Any job would do", I stated simply. I could run an office. Jessie had done that. She… I hadn't enjoyed it. But I had made enough to live off. I could do it again.

"Hear that, Gred?" George asked Fred. "Any job would do".

"It's good to know, Forge", Fred answered George. "That means our Jolly Holly won't have any problems working with us".

"Where we'll pay her in food", George continued as he and Fred started to list things.

"A roof".

"Clothes".

"And a couple of stools".

"Because she's so short".

I hung my head in defeat as I started down the path of a mild existential crisis. The arms that Fred and George had over my shoulders felt heavier than usual. Merlin, this conversation was making me feel old.

"Fascinating", Dad said to himself for the fourth time that day. He was next to Bill in front of our Weasley tour group as Bill showed us one of the tombs he had been working on for Gringotts. Currently, we were standing still in front of a stone wall carved with hieroglyphics. "Absolutely fascinating", Dad reiterated. I was standing on Dad's other side. Staring at the same thing he was with memories of ancient runes lessons popping up in my head. But it wasn't enough for me to make sense of what I was looking at. "And you say muggles used them to communicate as well?" Dad asked Bill.

"Oh, yeah", Bill answered in his normal laid-back fashion. He had been looking over his shoulder at where Mum, Ginny, and Ron were studying another wall very similar to this one. But hearing Dad's question, he turned his attention back to us. "It doubled as their form of written communication. Of course, nothing they wrote had any magical properties".

Dad shook his head as if he couldn't quite believe whatever he was thinking. "It's boggling! To think that wizardkind had helped build these tombs and pyramids alongside muggles, and still they were none the wiser to magic".

I muddled on that for a moment. It wasn't completely off. But it was missing a few things. For one, in ancient Egypt muggles thought about magic. And attributed many natural causes to magic. They just hadn't thought that wizards were responsible. Rather it was the gods and goddesses they worshipped that had magic. If I was remembering sixth-grade social studies correctly.

"Today", Bill started; deciding to add to Dad's wonder. "The muggles are baffled by how the pyramids were made. Their historians and scientists are still working to discover how they're possible".

Dad's eyes were wide with this information as he looked around the tomb in amazement. It wasn't something that happened often, but I actually had something to add to this discussion. "Some muggles think the pyramids were built by aliens". I offered up with a half-hearted shrug.

"Aliens?" Dad asked as he turned his head to look at me.

I nodded.

Leading Bill needing to ask for further information. "Aliens, like foreigners?"

"No", I shook my head before I thought about it a bit. "Well, sort of". Because I guess technically speaking aliens could also be considered as foreigners. "Aliens from outer space". A phrase that would have made sense for most muggles did nothing for my dad and eldest brother. If their blank stares were anything to go by. "Extraterrestrials?" I tried.

Nada.

So, I sighed as I tried to think about how to explain science fiction to people living in a fantasy genre. "Um… Living things that are not from Earth. They come from different planets. Maybe even different galaxies".

Some comprehension started to shine in Bill's and Dad's eyes. But it was still looking a bit dim. "And…" Dad started, treading carefully to make sure he was following. "Muggles believe these aliens are real?"

Another shrug. "Some of them do".

"These muggles…" Dad said with exasperated fondness. "To think they would believe in something as far fetched as that but disregard magic".

I didn't bother to correct Dad on that statement. I mean, some muggles do believe in magic. Those muggles were just either Wiccans or believed that witchcraft was devil worship. Neither of which was very complementary to the people who actually wield magic.

Looking back at the wall of hieroglyphics, I was ready to let this topic go. But Bill wasn't quite done. "Holly, when you were a muggle did you believe in aliens? The aliens not from this planet, that is".

When I opened my mouth, my lips made a smacking sound. "…No". I said; feeling self-conscious. Maybe it was the sound I had made, or maybe it was because I had paused before answering, but neither Dad nor Bill looked too convinced. But, I mean, come on. Isn't it a bit presumptuous to think that life is only possible on Earth? Especially when no one even knows how big outer space is.

"Fred! George! No!", Percy's disgruntled voice bounced off the tomb's walls followed by sounds of a scuffle.

"Come on, Perce", Fred said.

"Just for a little while", Came George's voice.

"We just want to see if you'll fit".

Like a parent who had dealt with Fred and George's antics for fifteen years, Dad calmly turned away from the hieroglyphics and started walking in their direction. "Fred, George!" He called loud enough to be heard over the kerfuffle. "Don't stuff your brother into a coffin!".

"It's not a coffin, Dad", George called back as Dad drew closer to them and farther away from Bill and me.

"Bill said it's called a sarcophagus", Fred said.

Bill shook his head in mild humor as we heard dad answered, "Then don't stuff your brother in a sarcophagus!"

Filling in the space that Dad had made when he went to deal with three of his middle children, Bill stepped closer to me. "I'm surprised they were allowed through customs", Bill commented.

I let out a small humph of a laugh. No need to ask who he meant by 'they'. "Mum Checked their bags and pockets before we left the burrow". I informed Bill. But failed to mention that she had also checked my bag and pockets. I'm not sure when Mum had caught on that Fred and George would use me to smuggle in what she considered to be contraband. But she had figured it out and it was now probably time to enlist Ginny as my replacement. She was better at keeping secrets than Ron was.

"Bill", I started as we waited for Dad to finish sorting out my fellow triplets and Percy. "How did you know that you wanted to be a curse breaker?"

It was Bill's turn to shrug as he thought of an answer. "I didn't. But I knew I wanted to travel. And that I didn't want to sit behind a desk all day. Curse breaking is also rarely boring, and I like a challenge". The smile Bill gave me was almost wolfish. Enough so that I was reminded of what might happen to him in the future. "Why? Are you thinking about joining me in the field?"

"No", I answered with a shake of my head; raising a hand to brush some hair behind my ear a bit agitatedly. My skin brushing against the phoenix feather in the process. "It's just… something Fred and George said".

Bill raised an eyebrow that I barely saw due to the shadows of the tomb. "You three rarely get under each other's skin". It was his subtle way of asking for more information.

"They were talking about opening a joke shop. And they'd just assumed that I'd work with them". I had to pause to think through what I wanted to express. "But I'm not stupid. I know Fred and George smarter than me. More creative. They come up with so many ideas for inventions and actually know how to go about making them. I can't help them with that. So, I'll end up working for them instead of with them and I… I…don't want that. But I don't know what else I could do. What if-"

I got cut off when Bill pulled me into a one-armed hug. "Holly, take a breath" he instructed; shaking me until I complied. His voice was tinged with mirth. Clueing me in that everything I'm currently feeling might just be growing pains. When I am calmer, Bill continued. "So, you're worried about the future because you don't have a clue about what you want to do". Bill summarized my inner turmoil for me.

I nodded in confirmation; leaning into his side. One of the benefits of being short is that I still fit under his arm.

"Do you know who helped me find curse breaking?' Bill asked. But he didn't wait for me to give an answer, making the question rhetorical. "It was McGonagall. During the career advice meeting. Before that, I didn't know what I wanted either and thought that I would end up at the ministry like Dad". Looking down at me, Bill offered a smile of comfort. "I know McGonagall isn't your head of house anymore, but you'll have that meeting this year. You'll be fine. Besides, you're a Weasley. You'll figure it out".