Hello again! Decided that posting another chapter tonight was the least I could do after such a long gap. And don't worry – many more chapters will be coming very soon! I've just got to get these re-writes done, but as you know, the bones of the story are already there! Please be sure to drop some comments and support if you're enjoying the story, and thanks so much for taking the time to read. Enjoy!
CHAPTER TWO: Home
Ellie settled into routine at the Burrow quickly, enjoying it more and more by the day. Molly and Arthur were the warmest people she had ever met, Fred and George the funniest, and Ginny the sweetest. Ron and Percy seemed rather indifferent to her, but she didn't particularly mind; she hadn't expected to befriend all five children right away.
On the fourth night, Ellie decided to address something that had been nagging at her quite a bit since her arrival.
"Hey, Ginny?" she whispered into the darkness.
She heard the rustling sound of Ginny turning to face her, then, "Yeah?"
"How much do your parents know about my dad?"
Ginny was silent for several seconds. "I… don't know, exactly," she finally said. "Nothing they've told me. Fred and George did eavesdrop a bit, though. Sounds like your father did some pretty bad stuff—worked in the service of the Dark Lord. Death Eaters, they call them."
Ellie knew about Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters; her mother had shared those stories with her in an attempt to sway her not to join the wizarding world. She had known that her father was involved in dark magic, but not that he was a Death Eater specifically. The knowledge made her feel sad. "They seemed sure?"
"I think so. They were a bit nervous, I think, of having you out here. We really needed the money, of course, but with your dad being a criminal and all…"
"They thought I'd be one, too," Ellie realized, biting her lip. Had she given them enough cause to change their minds yet? Were they still afraid of her?
"Not anymore," Ginny said, as if reading her mind. "Mum loves you—says you're the most gracious guest she's ever had. And Dad won't shut up about how amazing it is that you grew up in the Muggle world while knowing about magic. Says it must have been really confusing."
It had been confusing. Even more than that, it had been… lonely.
But she didn't have to be lonely anymore.
About three weeks into Ellie's summer at the Burrow, the kids invited her to play Quidditch.
"You'll use Percy's broom," Fred explained to her as she followed him, George, Ginny, and Ron into the backyard. She was starting to be able to tell the twins apart, though she still wasn't perfect at it. "The git decided he was too good for the game years ago."
Ellie had heard of Quidditch before, and had even noticed the boys flitting about on broomsticks through the window a handful of times since her arrival. But she hadn't imagined she'd get to try it out.
"We'll give you the Madam Hooch lesson now so you can look really good during your first class," George told her as they set their broomsticks out in a row. "Stand to the side of your broom like so, extend a hand, and say, 'Up!'"
The instant he uttered the word, his broomstick shot up into his hand with no regard for gravity. Ellie gasped in amazed surprise.
"It's really quite simple, when you get the hang of it," Fred told her cheerfully as he extended his own hand to do the same. Like his brother, his broomstick shot into his hand the moment he said "up."
"It's really not that simple," Ron warned her. It was one of the first times he had spoken to her since her arrival. "Fred and George are on the Quidditch team at Hogwarts and have years of experience. Don't feel bad if you can't get it right away."
Ellie glanced at Ginny, who shrugged, extended her own hand, and got her broomstick to launch up with no trouble at all.
Encouraged, Ellie cleared her throat and did the same. Percy's broom lifted a few inches off the ground, hovered for a few seconds, then dropped back down.
"Not bad," said Fred, nodding. "Try again, only this time, stern—like you're talking to a dog that's misbehaving."
Ellie laughed, then tried again, more forcefully. The broom reacted so sharply that it actually stung her hand when she caught it, and she shrieked, dropping it.
"Bloody hell!" she cursed as the rest of them burst into laughter around her. "Can I just pick it up, already?"
Fred, who was cackling by then, nodded. "Go on. Straddle it with your feet still on the ground. When I say go, kick off with your feet. You'll pull back to go up, push down to go down, and turn—"
"Yeah, yeah," she interrupted as she kicked off the ground. "Let's do this."
Flying was Ellie's new favorite activity, though spending time with the Weasleys was a close second. Ellie had always been outcasted for being "weird" or "different" back home, and wasn't used to having such warm, friendly people in her life.
"Tell me," she said to the rest of the kids one evening about halfway through the summer as they lounged in the living room. "How much are we going to see each other at Hogwarts?"
"Well, me, not at all," grumbled Ginny. "Until next year."
"The rest depends on your house," added George. At this point, Ellie could easily tell the twins apart, though she couldn't put her finger on what made them different. It wasn't any specific physical attribute; it was more the way they carried themselves, and the way they interacted with her. George treated her like a little sister—one to teach and protect, if necessary—but Fred treated her more like…
Well, she couldn't put her finger on that, either. Like she was interesting, she supposed. Like he wanted to figure her out.
"My house?" she repeated.
"You know," said Ron. "Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff?"
It vaguely rang a bell. "Right. I think my mum said she was a Slytherin. But I don't quite know—"
But she couldn't finish her sentence over the sounds of their disgust.
"You can't be in Slytherin, El," said Fred. She liked that he called her that; no one ever had before. "They're the worst of the lot."
"You Know Who was a Slytherin," Ron explained to her with a frown. "Along with most of his followers. Pretty much every witch and wizard who ever went bad."
The realization put an unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach. Did that not say something about her mother—even about her?
"What are you, then?" she asked the twins.
"Gryffindors, of course," said George. "Percy, too, and Charlie and Bill before us. It's the only house to be in."
"Who decides what house you're in?"
"The Sorting Hat," said Ron. "They'll have a ceremony on our first night at Hogwarts—put it on all of our heads, and it'll sort us."
"And if I'm not in Gryffindor?" Ellie asked. Her eyes trailed to the twins. "We won't see each other?"
Fred's big, brown eyes clouded over with sympathy, and he offered her a warm smile. "We'll see each other, El. Don't you worry."
A few nights later, Ellie took out her guitar again.
She hadn't even realized how long she had gone without playing—by far the longest since her mother had bought her the guitar nearly two years prior. It was a sign that she was happy, she knew. She usually played when she was sad.
She was alone when she started, but it didn't take long for Ginny to wander in.
"Wow," Ginny breathed when Ellie finished a bit of strumming of Here Comes the Sun. "I've never seen a guitar in real life before."
Ellie glanced at Ginny's wall, on which hung a poster displaying a wizarding band called the Weird Sisters. "You clearly like music, though. Ever listen to Muggle music?"
"Not really," Ginny admitted. "But I'd love to hear some more. Ooh—could I round up the rest of the family to listen? I'm sure Dad would be ecstatic."
A few months ago, Ellie wouldn't have even considered playing her guitar in front of this band of redheaded strangers. Now, though, she felt so close to them, the thought didn't scare her so much. So she gave Ginny a casual shrug and said, "Sure. Just tell them no pressure, and warn them I'm not good."
Ginny rolled her eyes before scampering off to make the rounds with the family. To Ellie's surprise, she returned a few minutes later with every single member of the family except for Percy.
"I didn't even realize what that was when I helped bring it upstairs for you," Ron told her eagerly. "Go on, then!"
Ellie glanced at the others, who all gave her reassuring smiles and nods, before clearing her throat. "Okay—fine. But don't make fun of my voice, okay? I'm not much of a singer… or a guitarist, for that matter."
And with that, she started to strum.
Ellie liked all sorts of different music, but ever since coming to the Burrow, one song had really stuck in her mind: Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. By the time she got to the chorus—Home is wherever I'm with you—she actually felt herself tearing up.
How many times had she begged her mother to listen to her play? How many times had she watched her mother's stony expression as she poured her heart out to her via song?
There was no coldness now, she thought as she stared up at the wide-eyed, fascinated redheads she had come to know as family.
There was only warmth, love, and comfort.
That night, Ellie couldn't fall asleep.
It wasn't the first time she had dealt with insomnia. Back home, she found herself tossing and turning more often than not. Here at the Burrow, though, for the most part, she had been sleeping like a baby—until now.
Around two o'clock in the morning, she crept out of Ginny's room and down the stairs in search of a bite to eat. The pantry was mostly empty, though, and the little that was there didn't much appeal to her. So, instead, she crept out the back door of the house and settled onto a bench in the garden.
She wasn't sure how much time passed before he came—somewhere between ten minutes and an hour. She was so lost in thought, she didn't notice the back door open, nor the sound of his footsteps; it wasn't until he said "Well, hello there" that she let out a shriek of surprise and jumped up.
"Fred!" she scolded, crossing her arms. "You can't just sneak up on a person like that."
He tilted his head to the side in a strangely cute way, squinting at her. "How do you know I'm Fred?"
How could she answer that without sounding like a complete moron? "I don't know. I just… do."
Mission not accomplished.
"Right," he said, and cleared his throat. "Well, sorry to scare you. I come down to make subs in the middle of the night when I can't sleep—saw you through the window." He lifted the small plate in his hand to show it to her. "Want one?"
She frowned. She was hungry, but she was a strict vegetarian, and she knew that he wasn't. "What's in it?"
"Ham," he admitted. "But come on inside and I'll make you a veggie."
She beamed at that, following him inside and propping herself up on the counter while he got to work.
"So," he said as he rummaged through their magical version of a refrigerator. "Excited for our Diagon Alley trip?"
She nodded eagerly at that. "Especially about getting an owl. I hope that's one of our first stops."
He grinned. "I'll make sure it is. Have you come up with any good owl names? I'd be happy to help you come up with a punny one, if you're interested. Owlbert Einstein, Owl Capone…"
She rolled her eyes. "Thanks, but I've already got one picked out."
He waited for her to share it with him, then, realizing she was keeping it a secret, laughed. "You're quite the enigma, El. I said I'd figure you out by the end of the summer, but now I'm not so sure."
There it was again—Fred's fixation with learning more about her. It was hard not to find it flattering; she tried not to blush. "I'm really not that interesting. Just keeping my owl name to myself until I meet him, you know, for good luck."
"Not that interesting?" he repeated, shooting her a sarcastic look as he popped her completed sub into the wizarding version of a toaster. "Your father is in Azkaban, your mum abandoned magic, and you grew up with Muggles. Not to mention, you once lit a girl's hair on fire."
Her eyes widened as her blush spread all the way to her ears. "How did you know about that?"
Fred laughed. "Saw it in one of the letters from your mum to mine before you came here. What'd the girl do, anyway, to deserve it?"
Ellie's smile faded at the memory. She hadn't been particularly close with Teddy Clark, the scrawny, little red-haired orphan boy with the glasses who Paige Patterson had ruthlessly bullied, but she had known that he deserved better.
"She just… wasn't very nice to someone," she said quietly.
Fred held her gaze, looking no less intrigued than he had been before. But when the toaster dinged, Ellie steered the conversation back toward more comfortable subjects.
In their final weeks before Diagon Alley and Hogwarts, Ginny and the twins announced to Ellie that they wanted to form a band.
Ellie said yes, of course. She had no idea how she would teach George to play the drums or Ginny to play the bass, but she knew that she could teach Fred to play the guitar, and the rest, she would figure out.
"What are we going to call ourselves?" George asked them the night Molly successfully transfigured gourds into drums and a pineapple into a bass.
Ellie barely had to think about it. "The Weasleys."
Fred glanced curiously up at her and said, "But you're not a Weasley."
Ellie threw an arm around Ginny, smiled back at him, and said, "Might as well be."
