Chapter 1 ~ Family
Harry sighed. He'd been staying with the Weasleys since June. It was now July, and he found himself nearly ready to go back to the Dursley's house on Privet Drive. At least there he'd have some peace and quiet. He loved the Weasleys, but they'd all been getting restless. Even he'd been in a few arguments--one with Ron, one of his best friends, and one with Percy, Ron's older brother (who had left the day before; he'd only been there for a week's visit). They'd been resolved quickly, thankfully, but the atmosphere around the house was moody and gray.
The family ghoul was getting skittish, too. It seemed to have a grudge against Harry for some reason, and kept dropping things right above his room. His room which happened to be Percy's old room. Lately, he found himself becoming withdrawn. He felt like he was part of the family; they'd welcomed him with open arms. But sometimes, he just wanted his own family--not the Dursleys. But . . . some other family. He had to have some sort of relation somewhere, didn't he? It just didn't make sense for all of his relatives to be gone. Just vanished into thin air? No matter how distant, he wanted to know someone that was blood relation to him--on the Potter side.
Of course, he had Sirius Black, his godfather. But his godfather was also an escaped convict. He was innocent, of course, but the Ministry of Magic didn't know that--yet. The headmaster of Harry's school, Hogwarts, was currently in the process of getting Sirius a retrial. Professor Dumbledore knew the truth and, being a wizard of importance, had the influence to bring about that retrial. In time, Harry was sure he'd be able to stay with Sirius, but currently did not have that option. Even when he did, Sirius was only his late parents' best friend. He was not blood, and though Harry felt he was family all the same, he couldn't help but also feel that something was missing. Or rather, that someone was missing.
He glanced at his clock as there was an explosion in the room next door. Of course, that was the twins' room, and Harry hardly noticed the eruptions anymore. It was almost dinner-time, though. Soon someone would be yelling for everyone else to go downstairs and eat.
There was a knock at his door and Ginny, Ron's younger sister, peeked in. She stood there a moment before she realized he was staring at her expectantly; her face turned almost as red as her pretty fiery hair.
"It's time for supper," she said quietly. He nodded and she closed the door.
Around the table sat Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ginny (right across from Harry), George, Fred, Ron, and then Harry himself, sitting by Mr. Weasley. For a few minutes there was silence, as everyone began to pretend to eat while they were really lost in their own thoughts. Each was wishing something, though each also thought that everyone else was as oblivious to what was going on in the house as they were trying to act.
Mr. Weasley was wishing he could talk to an American. They were an interesting sort, and he wondered if the muggles were the same there as they were in England.
Mrs. Weasley was wishing that there was another someone in the house. A girl (so Ginny would have someone else to talk to, poor girl) who could help her out with the house, and help keep the boys in line. Especially those twins--though things had been getting rather quiet the last week or so, she was more worried instead of less worried. Silence from Fred and George meant more trouble than it was worth.
Ginny, clearly, was wishing for another girl around. She really wanted to talk to someone other than her family, and Harry was definitely not an option. Not that she didn't want to talk to him--she did. But you can't talk about your crush when he's the one at the other end of the conversation. Especially when it's a crush that you're completely crazy over. A crush that you could hardly have a conversation with without blushing. A crush who had, in fact, saved your life. No, Harry wouldn't do to talk to.
George was wishing something very simple: a girl to cheer up Fred. He'd been a bit depressed, and he'd managed to keep it from the rest of the family. However, George was able to see right through his twin's facade, and he wanted Fred back the way he used to be; he wasn't as much fun this way.
Then there was Fred. He was wishing for someone, also. That was about as specific as he got, other than that someone should be a girl. He couldn't manage to think his wish in words; his came from the heart.
Ron had seen his best friend's worn-out expression as they'd all sat down to dinner. He knew Harry's feelings, though Harry didn't know it. Ron knew how much of an outsider he felt sometimes, like when his mum started to yell at he and his siblings in front of Harry. Therefore, when he wished, he wished for Harry. He wished that Harry would find whatever he was looking for--or whoever he was looking for.
Harry, as he usually was, began to wish he could find that missing link. The link that was somehow missing from his family chain. Though he didn't know whether there really was someone out there, he couldn't help but wish.
Unknown to them, at the same time they were sitting down to supper in the Burrow, Tiera was in her hotel room. She had already eaten dinner--a large salad--and was now listening to her Moulin Rouge soundtrack on her discman. She couldn't believe it; she was in London. Beautiful London. Of course, she only knew that through her window she could see a beautiful view. She didn't really have a chance to explore and find out if all of it was as beautiful as it was supposed to be.
She couldn't help but sing along to "Lady Marmalade," a catchy, albeit somewhat crude song. The French of the chorus meant something along the lines of, "Would you go to bed with me?"
She was just singing that bit of the song as she closed her eyes and twirled around toward the dresser to put up her cell phone. When she opened her eyes she came face-to-face with . . . seven people. Seven people she didn't know. The lyric died on her tongue and her jaw dropped just as seven forks dropped onto seven full plates. Her eyes widened and she began to back up, faintly thinking to turn off the music and pull her headphones down around her neck.
There was complete silence in the Burrow for what seemed like a full ten minutes. It was really only about thirty-three seconds, but that was still a record for that household.
Finally, Mr. Weasley stood and managed to ask, "A-aren't you a little young to be apperating?"
Tiera stared at him. "Appa-what-ing?"
"Apperating. You're a bit young for that, aren't you?"
Her only response for a moment was a blank stare. "I don't know what that is."
"Then how did you . . . You aren't . . . an American, are you?"
"Ye-ah . . ." she said, puzzled. What did that have to do with anything?
"Oh . . ." Mr. Weasley sat down, evidently deep in thought.
Tiera stayed where she was, feeling very uncomfortable. Mrs. Weasley, though, stood up from her seat.
"Well, sit down, dear, while we sort this thing out--Fred, why don't you sit by Ron?" She smiled at Tiera. "We need someone to separate these two. What's your name?"
She gave the woman a small smile as she was directed to an empty chair. She was sitting between two redheaded boys. Come to think of it, six of the seven other people in the room had red hair.
"Must be a family thing . . ." she thought, amused.
George saw the twinkle in her eye. "She did ask you a question you know."
"Huh?" Tiera glanced up, then back down quickly, embarrassed. "Sorry. My name's Tiera Kay-Jordan McKenzie."
No one said anything, and she realized she'd spoken too quickly. "Sorry." She repeated herself slowly. "My name's Tiera Kay-Jordan McKenzie."
"Tiera, is it?"
"Yeah. My friends just call me KJ. It's a lot easier."
"Would you like something to eat, dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley after a moment.
"Oh no, I ate already. Thanks, though."
Soon, it was apparent that there would be no conversation. It was also apparent that no one was even trying to pretend to eat anymore. They finally decided to go into the living room to try to sort out the problem of how on earth Tiera had gotten there.
There was an awkward silence as everyone thought up their own theories. Then, Mr. Weasley decided to take charge.
"Well . . . KJ . . . What were you doing just before you . . . erm . . . appeared here?"
She sighed. "Well . . . I was listening to my CD and singing. And twirling," she added with an embarrassed grin.
Mr. Weasley leaned toward Mrs. Weasley and muttered, "Molly, you don't think . . . I mean, what with the magic out of control as it is . . . a wish could come true, do you?"
Her eyes narrowed toward him. "Arthur, how did you know?"
"What d'you mean 'how do I know?' It was my wish."
"No . . ."
The same thought occurred to them at once and they exchanged glances. Mr. Weasley cleared his throat as his ears slowly started to turn red. Tiera began to sink down into her seat.
"This is going to sound like an . . . odd question. But . . . were any of you . . . wishing?"
Six mouths dropped open; six faces reddened; six teenagers shifted in their seats; no one spoke. Until . . .
"You weren't . . . all, were you? It would make much more sense--I think."
"Uh . . ." Strangely, Tiera found the courage to speak up first. "I think . . . I think I was . . . in the back of my mind . . . something . . ."
Biting her lip, she began to twist around the hem of her shirt. She chose that moment to study her old Nikes. But then, she sensed six heads nodding reluctantly.
"That's it then. We just . . . all wished for you to be here at once, and you were. I think. How could . . ." Mr. Weasley began to mutter to himself again.
"The only way to really know for sure is to just . . . find out what everyone wished for. Shouldn't be too difficult, should it now?" Mrs. Weasley said with a scrutinizing look at each one of the redheaded boys.
"Um . . ." Tiera began, but trailed off when seven heads swiveled toward her. "I was just wondering . . . Well, you all know my name, but . . ."
"Oh, we've forgotten to introduce ourselves, eh? Sorry about that. I'm George," one of the twins said, sticking out his hand for her to shake. She did, with a small smile.
He introduced her to the others, then there was another long pause.
"I just wanted an American to talk to," Mr. Weasley said matter-of-factly, then looked at his wife expectantly.
Her face became tinged with pink. "Well, honestly, I . . . I was wishing there was someone here to help out a bit. You know, the housework and cooking. Keeping the boys in line."
There was yet another pause. Then George, smirking, said, "I wished for a girl to cheer ole Freddie here up."
This time there was a very pregnant pause, though even Tiera was trying to hide a smile. She finally giggled. When everyone looked at her, she mumbled a brief, "Sorry," and took to examining the carpet.
"Fred?" Mr. Weasley said, the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried his hardest not to crack a smile.
"Um . . . I just . . . I was wishing George and I could finish our latest. We have to have a girl's voice for that. A . . . a girl who can sing," he muttered, praying that she *could* sing.
At the questioning glances of the others, George nodded. Unfortunately for him, they really were working on a project which needed the voice he described.
"Well, I just wanted Harry to find whatever he was looking for," Ron said, sounding too much like his father.
They all turned to Harry curiously. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.
"Well . . . I've just . . . I've sort of been wishing I could find . . . Well, really I don't know what. Something . . . Someone that would . . ." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, giving Tiera a glimpse of the scar on his forehead.
She knew it would be there. By that time, she'd realized where she was, though she didn't quite believe it. She was just waiting for Lucy to yell at her to wake up.
"It's just . . . I've felt like something's missing. Family. I mean--not that you aren't wonderful, it's just . . . I . . ." he trailed off, uneasily.
"Of course, Harry. We understand, dear," Mrs. Weasley assured him with a smile.
Tiera heard him let out an almost inaudible, relieved sigh, but was promptly deep in her own thoughts. She barely heard Ginny say, "I just wanted another girl around to talk to . . ."
They all turned once again to Tiera, who was by then oblivious to her surroundings. Mr. Weasley cleared his throat again. "KJ?"
She shook her head and looked up at him. "Huh? Oh . . . Um . . . I think . . . I think I was wishing . . . that . . . I could be with . . ." She sighed and looked down to the floor again.
"Go on, dear."
"That I could be with my family and friends," Tiera said hesitantly, looking up once more.
That puzzled them all.
"But we're not your family and friends," Ron said, gaining an elbow in the ribs from Ginny, and glares from his parents and Fred.
Tiera didn't think anything of his words, however. She actually let out a small, somewhat bitter laugh.
"I know. That's the problem with my wish. It's impossible."
"What do you mean?" George asked, suddenly serious.
"I mean, I don't have any family. I . . . I have friends, but none . . . I don't have any real friends. Close friends, you know? With what I do . . . real friends are hard to come by."
"You don't have any family at all?" Harry asked, and they all remembered that his wish was for family as well.
She shook her head. "I--I'm an orphan . . . I guess. I mean, I never found out who my parents were. I've lived in a group home for as long as I can remember. And no other relatives ever came to claim me. So really . . ." she trailed off with a helpless shrug.
Mrs. Weasley looked ready to cry, but Harry's face had lit up. Soon, Tiera found herself easing backward as George was abruptly three inches from her face, studying her.
"Green eyes. Green eyes and black hair. That can't be common, can it?" he said, finally backing off.
"I--I'm half Irish and half Cherokee Indian. At least . . . that's what they told me. I never actually got any proof."
By then, both Harry and Tiera were being examined.
"There are . . . similarites," Mr. Weasley said with a frown.
Fred spoke freely for the first time. "But if they both wished for family, then they must be, mustn't they? It's the only explanation. He doesn't have a family, she doesn't have a family. It all makes sense, doesn't it?"
Mrs. Weasley put a hand to her son's forehead, also frowning. "All right, Fred?"
"All right. Why?"
"Because you've been perfectly sensible for the past week and a half. I'm beginning to be frightened."
They all laughed, but the laughter died down quickly as Harry and Tiera looked at each other. They were doing the studying now, trying to figure out if what they'd wanted for as long as they could remember was finally happening.
They all jumped when Tiera stood up and walked over to Harry--just as he'd begun to do the same. They walked in a circle, staring at each other. Then, they grinned, reservations about each other vanished, and hugged. The others exchanged glances, wondering if they were the only ones that missed something, then realizing that all the others had missed it as well.
"I'm glad I got sucked into Harry Potter world," Tiera said resolutely, more to herself than anyone else. "I hope I never have to wake up."
When she noticed everyone looking at her inquisitively, she blushed.
"Um . . . You guys . . . are kinda famous."
"Well, course Harry's famous," George said. "Everybody knows about him and You-Know-Who."
"Just say his name. Voldemort. It's not that hard," Tiera said with a smile. "And you don't know how right you are when you say *everybody*. And they don't just know about Harry and Voldemort. They know about all of you. You're a series of books. And a movie."
They were gaping at her now, as if she'd just grown an extra limb. She shrugged.
"Fine. Don't believe me. I--"
Something happened then that shocked everyone in the room: Tiera's cell phone rang. Even Tiera and Harry were startled. He didn't know she had a phone with her, and she'd forgotten about it. Looking at the caller ID, she groaned and rolled her eyes.
"Hello?" she answered, making a face at Fred, who actually smiled. She sent him a half-smile, but then she sighed. "Look, Frank, I didn't leave on purpose . . . Yes, I know, but-- . . . You can't-- . . . Listen, you-- . . . Frank, you couldn't come get me if you tried. Not to be all attitude-ish or anything, but seriously, it's impossible. I'm sorta stuck. . . . No . . . No . . . I'm sorry, but-- . . ." She sighed again and began to massage her temple. "No this is not another joke . . . No . . . No, Frank, listen to me--that's the problem with you: You don't care about anything but making money. You certainly don't care about me . . . That's a load of bull and you know it Frank . . . *No* . . . Frank, I don't have to be your little puppy . . . Uh-huh--no . . . Ugh, not even! . . . Contract my butt! I didn't sign for you to change me. FYI: I don't have to be 'sexy' all the time . . ."
The others in the room exchanged wondering glances as Tiera began to pace, forgetting where she was.
"I don't care what sells! If the real me doesn't sell, then I *won't* sell . . . Frank, I don't care . . . You can't do that! . . . You know what? Fine. Whatever you say--for now. Because for now I can't do anything about it. I'm not quite in London, and I won't be for a while, so just . . . I know about the tour, but I can't-- . . . Frank . . . Frank . . . *I can't do anything about it* . . . You'll just have to make up something--you're good at that, Frank, I wouldn't think it'd be a problem . . ." She raised an eyebrow. "You know what? Screw you. *I* . . . *don't* . . . *care anymore!*"
With that, she slammed the phone closed and turned to unwittingly face the Weasleys and Harry. Tiera felt her face heat up and she cleared her throat.
"Um . . ." She gave a nervous laugh. "Managers--what are you gonna do?"
"What aren't you telling us, KJ?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"Um . . . I . . . kinda . . . am a singer?"
"*Really?*" Fred blurted out, amazed at his luck.
Everyone stared at him for a moment, then turned back to Tiera.
"A professional, then?" Harry asked, slightly amazed. She nodded. "What kind of music?"
"It's . . . a little bit of everything. To sum it up, I guess it's pop mostly."
He smirked. The others didn't share his reaction, not knowing of the prestige of being a pop singer in the muggle world.
"So how famous are you?"
She made a face and rocked uncomfortably. "Well . . ."
"That's either really really famous, or no one knows you exist."
"Well . . . I'm pretty sure they know I exist . . . But I wouldn't say I'm *really really* famous, though . . ."
Harry laughed, but the others looked completely lost. Tiera decided she'd better change the subject.
"Um . . . So . . . What happens now?"
"You're staying in London, right?" Mr. Weasley asked, finally finding his voice.
"Right," she said slowly, clearly wondering what was coming.
"And obviously you don't want to go back right now. And you and Harry need to catch up. I think you should stay here for a while, then. We can go get your things."
"Really?" she asked, eyes lighting up. She looked to Mrs. Weasley, who was smiling.
"Course you can stay dear. We did all wish for you, didn't we?"
"I . . . don't know . . ." she said shyly.
"Well of course we did, KJ," George said with a grin. "Dad wanted an American, Mum wanted someone to help out--help keep us in line she says--" He winked. "Ginny wanted a girl, Ron wanted what Harry wanted, Harry wanted family, Fred wanted . . . *a girl that can sing* . . . and I wanted a girl for Fred."
At the latter of his speech, two faces (as well as two sets of ears) turned dark red, and there was a few moments of silence.
"We should probably get a move on, then," said Mr. Weasley, trying not to smile.
When Tiera sent him an inquiring look, he said, "To get your things. How many of us do you think it'll take?"
"Um . . . Well, I have 3 big big bags and a kinda medium-sized bag."
"Right then. Fred and George will go with us. Best take the car," he said, standing. (He'd managed to talk his wife into letting him get another one, though he couldn't enchant it with her watching him like a hawk.)
The twins also stood, and the three of them began to walk toward the door. Tiera followed them hesitantly, and George lagged behind to meet her, grinning.
"All right, KJ? We don't bite," he said, putting an arm around her.
She flinched and pulled away from him. Softly, she said, "I know . . ."
Fred and Mr. Weasley had stopped and turned to look at them. Fred put a hand on her shoulder. "All right?"
She gave him a small, slightly forced smile and nodded. "Yeah."
They left, each and every one of them (even Tiera) confused. Her question was why didn't she mind when she and Harry hugged and Fred touched her? The Harry "thing", though, was obvious: He was family--the only family she had, even though he was family she didn't know at all. What was really bothering her was George's "wish," and the fact that she hadn't cared in the least when Fred put his hand on her shoulder. Normally, especially with someone she'd just met, she'd have been three feet away the second they'd begun to move toward her.
The question on everyone else's mind, however, was why did KJ mind when anyone else did touch her? To have that sort of reaction was something they'd never seen before in someone. At least, someone trustworthy, and they knew she was. The only other explanation was that she'd been hurt. Badly. Wasn't it?
Funny things, wishes. We make them all the time, and never stop to think about them. They never found out that there was a ninth wish made: The family ghoul greatly wanted someone else to irritate.