Of Curing Herself – Emily

Emily Weasley sat crossed-legged on one of the many settees in the Burrow, her elbow resting on her knee, and her head resting in her hands. She was half-heartedly listening to her cousin Beth as the girl went on and on and on about how wonderfully her daddy had painted her new room.

"Oh, Emily," she gushed, "you should see it! It's absolutely divine! There are blue flowers everywhere, and I've got gorgeous furniture now…"

Beth's voice slowed down and deepened, as if in a movie, and Emily looked at her cousin with furrowed eyebrows.

"…and Daddy says sooner or later I'll even be able to get new bedding…"

Emily's eyebrows went up and her eyes widened. Something was wrong with her. She was ill, that was obvious, but was it really normal to hear weird voices while in the midst of a fever?

"Emily, are you all right?" asked Beth. "You seem sort of…distant."

Emily blinked. She shook her head and forced a smile. "I'm fine," she said. "Er…I just feel a little…under the weather."

"D'you want me to get your dad?" suggested Beth.

Emily nodded. "Yes, please," she squeaked.

Beth gave the younger girl's shoulder a squeeze before she hurried away in pursuit of Ron. Emily sighed and sat back on the couch.

Emily Weasley was the only of Ron and Hermione's children that did not have red hair, but had curly brown ringlets that spent most of their time in a loose bun or tight braid. She was exact replica of her mother, and could prove this with her love of books and quick mind. She would be starting Hogwarts the following year, and could not wait. But now, Hogwarts was far from her mind, and the only thing she could think about was why her head had started to throb so and why everyone around her was moving around very slowly.

"Emily?" came her father's voice. "Emily, love, are you all right?"

Emily managed to shake her head. Her eyelids fluttered together, and she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her.

"It's all right, love," said Ron, but his voice sounded distant to her. She hardly cared, though. She was completely content in her current position in her father's arms as he rocked her into a much-needed slumber.

When Emily awoke, not much had changed in her surroundings, besides the fact that not only was her father cradling her in his arms, but also her rather hysterical mother, who continually mumbled apologies into Ron's neck.

Emily yawned and stared at her mother as Hermione sobbed into Ron's neck.

"Mum?" said Emily, gently tapping her on the shoulder. "Are you all right? What's wrong?"

Hermione's tear-stained face shot up from Ron's shoulder, knocking his cheek with an audible bump in the process. Ron cursed under his breath and brought a hand up to his face to massage his cheek.

"Dad? Are you all right?" asked Emily, looking from her mother to her father, a bit baffled by their behavior.

"Oh, he's fine," answered Hermione, waving her hand evasively in Ron's direction. He frowned at her. "The question, love, is how are you doing?"

"I'm fi—"

"Oh, Emily, Mummy's so sorry!" Hermione wailed as she launched her youngest into a bone-crushing embrace. "I don't know why I didn't give you one of your grandmum's quick medicine treatments. Oh, Emily, I know you've been simply miserable, haven't you? And it's Christmas…"

Emily blinked. "Er…" She looked at Ron for support, but he just shrugged. Emily rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, Mum," she reassured Hermione, lying a small hand on her mother's shoulder. "Really. I just, you know, needed some sleep."

"Yeah, 'Mione," Ron piped up, rubbing his jaw. "You practically woke us all up this morning with the Jaws of Life, and then forced us to eat breakfast, and then shooed us out of the house." He shook his head. "Even Randy the Night Owl was tired this morning."

"That's 'cause he was up all night 'communicating' with Annie," said Emily.

Hermione looked at Emily, interested. "Who's Annie?" she prodded, her voice sweet. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Annie is Randy's, er," – Emily tapped her index finger on her chin, looking studious – "friend."

Hermione exchanged glances with Ron. "His friend, eh?"

Emily nodded. "Yes, Mum, but don't get angry with Randy. Annie's real nice, Mum. She sent me a knitted blanket for my birthday."

Hermione's eyebrows went up. "Oh really?"

"Yes ma'am," said the ten-year-old proudly. "Er—Mum?"

"Yes, dear?"

"D'you reckon I could get some tea?" she asked, smiling. "My throat is dry."

"Yes, dear." Hermione smiled at her daughter, and then tucked a few fallen curls behind the girl's ears. "Ron, will you get Emily a cup of tea?"

Ron nodded before retreating towards the kitchen. Hermione took this opportunity to wrap Emily in yet another bone-crushing embrace.

"Mum," Emily whined. "Merlin, I'm fine. I just needed some rest…"

"I know that, Emily Weasley, but I'm your mother. It's my job to worry and fret over you, not to mention Rebecca, Randy, and Alex." Hermione kissed Emily's forehead. "Humor me."

Emily sighed, but conceded with a nod. They sat there like that for quite a while; Emily wrapped up in Hermione's arms, and Hermione holding onto Emily as if her life depended on it. Hermione didn't even let go of Emily when Ron returned with the tea, but told him to set it on the table so that it could cool. ("She's just recovered from a fever, Ron! I'm not going to let her drink or eat anything that could increase her body temperature!")

"Mum," Emily eventually whispered, after what seemed like an eternity.

"Yes?"

"What's Hogwarts like?"

Hermione sighed and let go of Emily (finally) to lean back on the settee. Emily followed suit.

"Hogwarts is so wonderful, Emily," her mother began. "You'll absolutely love it. There's so much knowledge and learning there. It's fantastic."

"Are there a lot of books?" asked Emily hopefully.

"Oh, yes," said Hermione, then she smiled and turned to her daughter. "Emily, love, do you think you can it here while I go fetch something for you?"

Emily nodded, and Hermione placed one last kiss on her forehead before walking off. Emily grabbed her tea from off of the table.

"Emily," said Rebecca as the fourteen-year-old sat next to her sister. She looked worried. Emily groaned. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine, Beccy," said Emily, irritated. "Merlin, you sound just like Mum. Fretting over me, as if I were a porcelain doll." She took a sip of tea and was instantly calmed. Every muscle in her body relaxed and a smile crept up onto her face.

"We're just concerned, Emily," said Rebecca. "Dad told me you were feeling better, so I decided to come over here."

"Oh." Emily nodded. "I see."

"Where's Mum?"

"She went to fetch something," said Emily offhandedly before she took another sip of tea.

"Oh really?" Rebecca's voice was a little too smug and knowing for Emily's liking, but she ignored it and enjoyed her tea instead.

Hermione came back moments later with a neatly wrapped package tucked under arm. She looked pleased to see Rebecca and winked at the older girl, as she placed the package in Emily's lap.

Emily blinked. "Mum…this is a Christmas present."

"I know," said Hermione with an excited nod. "Open it."

Emily nearly fell off of the settee. "Are you serious?" she said accusingly, eyebrows furrowed. "Mum, is this some type of joke? Did Uncle George and Uncle Fred put you up to this? You never let us open any of our presents early."

"I know," said Hermione patiently, "but this is an exception. It's a special gift."

"Oooh…open it, Emily," Rebecca encouraged.

Emily, still a bit dubious despite her mother's claims, proceeded to tear the paper off of the package and was surprised to find an old, worn-out book that's spine was so thick it was nearly as big as Emily's entire thigh.

Rebecca and Hermione looked like they were going to relive themselves right there on the settee. They were practically jumping up and down. Emily just looked at the book.

"Er—it's an old book," Emily said, trying to sound excited. "How thoughtful. Thanks, Mum."

"Read the title, Emily."

Emily looked down at the cover: Hogwarts, A History. She'd heard about the book before from her mum and from Rebecca, but—wait. Could it…

"This is my old copy, Emily," Hermione explained. "I read it before I went to Hogwarts, and so did Rebecca, and now it's your turn."

"Oh," said Emily, a hint of a smile gracing her lips. Now she understood why her sister and mother were so utterly pleased. Hogwarts, A History had become a sort of family heirloom, a rite of passage, even. It symbolized the end of childhood and the beginning of a new adventure. Emily smiled. "Thanks, Mum."

Hermione looked like she was about to cry again.

"Oh, Mum," said Rebecca, as she leaned forward to pull Hermione into a hug, sandwiching Emily in-between them. "It's all right."

"I know," said Hermione. She kissed both Rebecca and Emily's foreheads. "Happy Christmas, my girls."

A/N: This chapter is rather short, but it's to the point, and I like it. I hope you did as well! The next chapter is, if you haven't figured it out yet, from Randy's POV and should be up either tomorrow or Friday. Happy Holidays to everyone!