Oh my Rowling, you all hate me now, don't you? =\ I'm really sorry! I already Crucio'd myself, and I'm not even sure if that's possible or not! I won't plague you with excuses, just the combination of a new job that I started in April and severe writers block made for...a really long time to update. But I'm unstuck now! I have already started the next chapter and I apologize that this one isn't as long as usual but I couldn't stuff any more into this one and end it where I wanted it to. So just read. Not my best chapter but there are parts I like. Man it's like 3 months in the making, I can't even fully remember what I have here now...let me know! I will never abandon this story, btw =)

:::

Harry could not keep the maroon blush out of his cheeks once his eyes met Pandora's as they crossed paths on the staircase. He flashed a tight, unconvincing smile before casting his eyes down and heading towards the kitchen below. Pandora chuckled as she recalled the high pitched shriek that emerged from Mrs. Weasley's lungs the night before as she insistently ushered Harry out of Ginny and Hermione's bedroom, up the levels of the Burrow and into Ron's unsuspectingly empty room. The task of getting Ron quickly and quietly into the safety of his quarters was unnerving on its own.

Closing the door of the loo behind her, Pandora set her things on the counter and shed her loose t-shirt and flannel pyjama bottoms before setting the shower water to a desired temperature. Steam filled the small area and she sighed as the night before seemed to swirl down the drain alongside soapy water, and every tense muscle and rigid limb relaxed and melted beneath the sweltering waterfall. Regretfully short but blissfully clean, she stepped out of the ancient tub and dried off her smooth skin before wrapping her long, thick hair in a towel. Mere moments passed and Pandora emerged from the washroom, refreshed and hungry, donning a comfortable pair of jeans and a casual sweater.

Before her eager hand could completely wrap around the small doorknob to the kitchen, the sound of two familiar voices stopped her momentum and she decided to head back up the staircase and leave whoever was in there to speak in peace. Her plan quickly dissipated once she heard Hermione's voice.

"Ron, that's okay. Really...I...I feel the same way."

Pandora's eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"You do? Bloody...that's a relief. I didn't want things...I didn't want it to get –"

"I know." A small pause. "Do you think it will come as a surprise to anyone?"

"Nah. Not now...maybe two or three years ago."

"I suppose you're right. We'd been a bit blunt about our feelings before. I wonder what had changed?"

"The war. Put things in perspective. I mean, life's too short, Hermione. We all need to grow up really fast now. Know what we want a lot sooner than we should."

A moment of silence. "You've grown up, Ron. You're more mature now."

Ron snorted. "Is that a good thing?"

Hermione chuckled. "Just...don't lose your Ron-ness."

"My what? Is that even..."

Pandora didn't waste her time listening to the rest of their cosy little conversation. She refused to digest the fact that what she had just heard made her frown. Made her stomach turn to ice. Made her chest clench almost painfully. She didn't want to know why she felt this way. All she wanted to do at that moment was be somewhere else. See someone else. Hear something else. But for the first time since she arrived, the loud and constantly buzzing household was abnormally quiet and everyone seemed to be in their separate rooms. Her only saving grace was the thunderous sound of someone descending the staircase and Pandora found herself face to face with Fred.

"Better speed up there, Fred, you might be late for something."

Fred blinked in surprise but recovered quickly. "Amazing guess. You only had a fifty – fifty chance of getting that right."

Pandora smirked. "You'll find that I do not guess; I give an educational response."

"Careful with that confidence, Witte. You might just end up like us."

Pandora raised an eyebrow. "Or you two could end up like me. Now, there's a frightening thought."

Fred chuckled. "You know what, little one? You're not half bad."

Pandora scoffed as Fred draped an arm over her shoulder. "Not half bad...anyone would be hard pressed to top that compliment."

Fred patted her shoulder affectionately. "Oh yeah. You'd make an excellent sister."

Pandora blanched. Sister? "What...what do you mean?"

Fred feigned an exaggerated look of surprise. "Don't tell me that intelligence you were boasting about only a moment ago has eluded you?" Pandora raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "It's only too obvious, maybe that's why you can't see it."

"And what exactly is it that I'm not seeing?"

Fred winked. "Oh, you'll see it eventually, young one."

Pandora rolled her eyes and peeked at the ginger twin beside her. "So, where were you off to in such a hurry?"

His eyes widened. "Blimey, you nearly made me forget about that! I'm trying to find a place of solitude to work on Georgie's gift, and in case you haven't figured it out by now, having twelve other people stay in such a condensed space makes that solitude rather hard to find."

Pandora chuckled. "Lock yourself in the loo for a few hours. Just tell whoever seems eager for a leak that you shouldn't have had that last sausage."

"Ugh, that's vulgar, Witte. I like it!"

She blinked in surprise. "I was joking, actually. I'm not quite sure who's odder, you or your brother, though it's amazing how two people who are so alike on the outside can be so different on the inside."

Fred couldn't seem to disguise the shock that spread across his face as Pandora made her way up the rest of the staircase towards Ginny's room, completely oblivious to that fact that she had just rendered a Weasley twin speechless.

"Your temporary workshop had better be empty once I require its use as a loo."

:::

"Lovely day for a Quidditch game." George exclaimed as he took in the dark grey clouds that loomed over the countryside.

Ginny raised an unimpressed eyebrow and spoke in a monotone voice. "Shame I didn't bring my sunglasses, really."

Fred ruffled Ginny's hair as he passed her, causing her to yelp and slap at this hand before attempting to fix her red locks. "No need to be so snippy, dear sister. This is the best day we've had in weeks."

The teams were picked for the strange game, with Fred and George picking up Ginny and Harry and Bill and Charlie with Ron. Broomsticks littered the frozen ground and it was then that it clued in to Pandora what this game was about.

"Oi! We're short a player! Hermione...Pandora...please..."

Hermione backed away fearfully, clearly frightened of the seemingly harmless broomstick. "Not fond of heights, Bill."

Bill, Charlie and Ron turned their pleading eyes towards Pandora, who raised her hands defensively and chuckled nervously. "And I'm not fond of a sport that consists of heights and cleaning supplies."

"Have you ever even tried it?" questioned Ron.

"Yes, Ron. Hopping on brooms is a regular occurrence in the Muggle world."

George chuckled. "Poor Ickle Ronniekins, always behind in the latest news. All right, Pandora, hop on. Let's see what you're capable of fifty feet in the air."

Pandora's eyes widened and she placed her hand firmly at the center of George's chest, her fierce look trembling with an edge of fear. "F-fifty feet? On that?" George nodded patiently while Ginny muffled a giggle behind her hand and the others began choosing their brooms and setting out round objects. "Look, Tweedle Dee, I plan on staying as far from fifty feet as humanly possible."

George scoffed and stepped over to an old, battered broom as he spoke. "Not afraid of heights, are you?"

"I'm fine with heights. It's falling I'm afraid of."

The playful Weasley twin shook his head in amusement. "All right, then." He stood with the broom in position. "I won't let you fall."

Pandora let out a hearty laugh, distracting from her nervous gaze as she glanced at the broom in George's hands. "You're right. I won't fall. Because I'm not going up there."

The dark haired witch barely had time to process the evil grin that had spread across George's face before he swiftly lifted her tall form over his shoulder and headed towards the small opening in the front yard, Pandora and broomstick in tow. Her fists thundered against his back and her legs flailed wildly, but her best efforts to free herself proved futile once she found that she was now straddling the broom. She unwillingly gripped at the rough wood handle and the last thing he felt before the gut-lurching take off was George wrapping his arms around her to grip the old broom. Pandora's eyes squeezed shut as she felt the cold winter air whip across her face and tear through her hair. She was jolted back into the moment by an amused voice in her ear.

"We're only up about forty-seven feet. You can open your eyes, you know."

Pandora chuckled darkly. "Decided to stay a few feet short of the quoted fifty feet, did you?" She sighed heavily and popped open an eye to peek at the view. Only in her mind would she admit how lovely everything seemed up there, despite the grey clouds and frozen greenery. "You're rather lucky that you've decided to be this close to me when I'm clearly more terrified than I am angry."

"Which is exactly why I plan on making myself scarce for a few hours once I reach the ground."

"Only a few hours?"

"Oh, come now, Witte. Look...just open your eyes. Do you feel like losing your breakfast?"

"I could just lose it on you and call ourselves even." Pandora felt George lean away from her and fear gripped her once again as she felt his hands wrap around her white-knuckled grip on the handle and attempt to pry open her fingers. Her arms were forced open like wings and she could almost hear the smirk spreading across his face.

"There. Freddie, if you will."

A quiet grunt caused Pandora to peek around behind her before she realized that George had hopped off of the broom she was sitting on and onto a broom tossed by Fred in midair. Her hands flew back to the handle and she took the moment to look around. Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Harry, Ginny, and Ron were weaving around in the open air, lobbing an old, battered ball back and forth between the seven of them, perfectly at ease and incredibly agile. She may have even enjoyed watching if she had any clue how to manoeuvre the thing. Every fibre of her being was screaming, 'let me down!', and to Pandora's amazement, the old, splintery broom listened, though there was nothing to be desired for its smoothness. She nearly kissed the frozen ground when her feet hit the earth, but she settled for leaning the broom stick against a nearby tree and stiffly made her way towards Hermione, the voices of Bill and Charlie fighting with Fred and George over who would get Ginny or Harry in the background.

"Lovely git of Weasley, don't you think?"

Hermione chuckled. "Which one?"

Pandora shook her head in slight amusement as she settled on the thick, woollen blanket beside the brunette witch. "How many of these things does that woman own? You'd think she was trying to solve every problem in the world with food and blankets."

Hermione shrugged as she watched the simple game unfold. "Is that a bad thing?"

Pandora's eyes widened momentarily as she watched Ginny rush towards the ground to catch the oddly shaped ball and launch it towards Ron, who yelped and ducked his head. "No. Not at all. If there were more people like her, the world would be a much happier place."

Hermione smiled softly. "It might also help if Voldemort wasn't lurking around every corner."

"Yeah, he can put a bit of a damper on things."

There was a moment of silence as they watched Ginny cackling at Ron, red in the ears and yelling something about his neck while Harry swirled around the field, clearly enjoying the leisurely flight.

"Reminds you a bit of your mum, I think."

Pandora's eyebrows met in confusion. "Voldemort? Err...I didn't know he was the mothering type."

Hermione gave her a wry look. "Mrs. Weasley! Voldemort couldn't mother his own hair."

Pandora's heart pounded in her chest. The look in Hermione's eyes raised the suspicion in her mind and the only thought bouncing around in her head was...

"How did you know?"

"Pandora, you-"

"Did Ron tell you?"

Hermione blinked at the coldness in her voice. "Ron...knows?"

Pandora narrowed her eyes. "He didn't tell you?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I-"

"Then how do you know?"

"Just...your behaviour." Pandora was ready to argue but Hermione pressed on. "Listen to me. You had no mother figure while we were at school, but when you met Mrs. Weasley and talked with her, you...changed. You became softer. You seemed more relaxed. Maybe I'm reading this all wrong, because there are no Death Eaters around, but...I just had a feeling."

Hermione was carefully avoiding Pandora's eyes, which were wide and sad. "She does." Hermione finally looked up. "Remind me a bit of my mum. She's strong. She just...almost loves too much, you know?"

Hermione nodded and they sat there, underneath a naked tree, in silent understanding. Hermione understood Pandora just a little bit more, and Pandora knew Hermione would never tell anyone of their $conversation.

:::

The constant bustling of the Burrow throughout the last few days seemed to have been diffused the morning before Christmas Eve and Pandora took this opportunity to begin creating her gifts for the family. She had no money to her name, but she did possess a lifelong talent for art and creativity and decided the only way she could possibly thank the kind Weasleys for all they have done for her is to create homemade gifts that were personalized to fit each of their personalities, as well as Harry and Hermione. She was aware of how lame it would seem, receiving cheap, home crafted presents instead of the expensive, luxurious, helpful gifts they deserved, but she knew she'd feel terrible if she had nothing to show for her appreciation.

Pandora searched through her suit case and various bags for any possible supplies and emerged with a bit of clay, some clean cardboard, an old but pretty journal, a mirror that belonged to her father's mother, a small piece of cedar wood, a sketch book with thick pages and a small bag with various art supplies. She sat down in a corner in the cozy living room and glanced over her options, ideas forming themselves in her mind. She decided to begin with what seemed to be the simplest idea and delicately picked up the old journal and examined it, deciding that it would suit Hermione best. She made no changes to the cover, deciding the charm of the gift came from the lovely tattered look it had. Drawing in on her knowledge of the Latin language, Pandora tried muttering 'ink Sentential' as she held the tip of her wand to the naked, yellow pages of the journal. Once finished with her work, she set her wand aside and held the journal firmly in her hands and a wide grin spread across her face as the words 'Merry Christmas, Hermione.' appeared from out of nowhere upon the first page. For a witch with so many bloody thoughts coursing through her mind at every moment, Pandora thought a journal that wrote out its holders' thoughts might be a good idea.

Pandora turned her attention towards the sketchbook and decided to attach several sheets of paper together to make the cover of what would become a photo album for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, which would be painted maroon. After creating special slots where various photos could be placed, she cast a spell that allowed an unlimited amount of memories and pictures to be placed in the makeshift photo album. Pleased with her work, she picked up the old mirror and turned it over in her hand, deciding what to do with it and who to give it to. Pandora thought of a spell that would animate the mirror once held, and decided to give it a sense of humour useful in the recent dark times. She then turned her attention over to the small piece of cedar and rummaged through her bag of supplies for her wood carving knife. Within minutes, a small broom looking similar to one she had seen in a book once had appeared in her hands, the name 'Potter' engraved delicately into the handle. Pandora recognized the design of the old broom, knowing it was very popular around the time that Harry's father had attended Hogwarts. Satisfied with her work, she began working with the bit of clay she found and split it in half before working them both into the shapes of Fred and George, making sure to put the time into the small details and made them individuals. She cast a charm on each that allowed them to mimic the movements and conversations of each of the twins, as well as their personalities.

Pandora took a deep breath as she carefully considered her gift for Ron. She didn't quite know why she cared about this particular gift most of all, or why she worried more about his reaction than any other, but she knew what she wanted to create for him and had thought too long and hard about it to turn back now. So as she held the blank piece of this cardboard, she imagined in her mind the complicated spell she needed to accomplish for the effect of the gift to work. She felt a slight release from her mind and felt ecstatic as she watched something sketch itself upon the plain cardboard and realized the moving drawing was playing out memories of her sister, of her mother...of the first time Ron had ever spoken to her. Pandora decided to place the gift on the floor before too much revealed itself and watched curiously as the memory faded away before her eyes.

"You made those?"

Pandora gasped and attempted to hide what she had just made before glaring up at Harry. "You little – why didn't you – what did you see?"

Harry shrugged. "Just those pieces of clay, and that mirror..." Pandora became suddenly aware of how sharply his sentence ended and she raised an eyebrow. "...and that piece of cardboard." She sighed and lowered her gaze down to her hands folded in her lap. "You don't talk about them much."

Pandora had to hold back an exasperated sigh. Why was everyone suddenly so nosey about her past and her family? How did it concern anyone at all? She turned for the defensive. "Why should I talk about them? Are they really any of your business?"

Harry seemed unfazed by her sharp words and simply shrugged his shoulders. "Just curious." He dropped his gaze to the floor and shoved his hands into his pockets. "If I had a family, I'd talk about them all the time."

Bloody hell.

Pandora replied without thinking, deciding that she had no reason to hide anything anymore. "So would I." Harry's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion for a mere moment before a reluctant wave of understanding washed across his face. "It's quite complicated, but...my sister is safe somewhere. And that's all I care about."

His sharp eyes flickered to the plain, white cardboard. "You...don't have to talk about it."

Pandora flashed a cheeky grin. "I wasn't going to."

Harry flashed a tight grin and made to leave the room, but he hesitated and she glanced up at him curiously. "You...what are you making anyways?"

"Christmas gifts. I'm not exactly swimming in gold, so...I'm afraid they won't be very good."

Harry grinned and spoke as he exited the room. "You have nothing to worry about. This family thrives off of home made things."

:::

The small room buzzed with chatter and the sounds of food cooking and cutlery and plates being set on the wood table. Pandora leaned her head back against the wall that she had been sitting by for hours while completing her gifts and adding finishing touches. Although she wasn't able to spend copious amounts of gold on them, she could at least satisfy herself with putting a large amount of time and energy into such simple things. She had spent the better part of two hours attempting to duplicate a wonderful bit of magic she had witnessed in the house and it took a lot out of her. Deciding she should safely stow away her creations so she could help out in the kitchen, Pandora forced herself onto her feet and placed everything carefully in her suitcase beside the couch. The large family was just beginning to sit down for the feast and much to Pandora's dismay, the only seat available was beside Ron and due to the high volume of Weasleys it was a tight fit. Shaking her head, she approached the table and pulled out the chair.

"Something wrong, dear?"

It suddenly became very quiet and Pandora silently cursed herself for being foolish. "I'm fine. Just tired, that's all."

"Blimey, we've barely seen you all day. What have you been up to?"

She forced herself to relax and answered Ron's question. "Just been reading. Trying to get my mind off things." She finally settled herself into the chair, but felt no less uncomfortable than when she was standing.

"Like what?" Fred inquired.

Charlie spoke before she could choke out an answer. "The war, of course. What else has been going on that we all wish we could forget about?"

And just like that, the table was buzzing with four different conversations once again. Pandora sighed heavily and began dishing out food with the assumption that she was off the hook this time when she was pulled out of her thoughts by Ron.

"Seriously, though. What's on your mind?"

She stiffened when she realized just how close his voice was to her ear and refused to look him in the eye. "Nothing."

Ron chuckled softly and cut into a large piece of pork. "There is never 'nothing' going on in your mind."

Pandora sighed and stuffed a potato in her mouth. "People are getting more curious about my past. It's unnerving." It wasn't the whole truth, but she wasn't lying either.

He cast a sideways glance at her. "Who?"

"Hermione knows about my mum." His eyes widened and his attention turned to Hermione for a moment. Pandora couldn't explain the odd twinge that tore at her gut. "Harry suspects something. I only mentioned my sister briefly." His intense gaze was on her again. "And your mum...I swear, if I didn't know any better, I'd say she knew just about as much as you do."

Ron swallowed his peas. "They won't judge you, you know. If you tell them. I'm not saying you should or shouldn't, but..."

"That's all they need. More 'happiness' to spread around."

Ron rolled his eyes. "That's what family is there for. If you've got something on your mind and its bothering you, just go and talk to them about it. I mean, if you can't talk to family then –"

"Why do you speak of them as if they are my family? They are your family Ron. I would just be another burden, if I'm not already."

"That's not true, and you know it."

Pandora finally met his blue-eyed gaze and there was a finality in his eyes that suggested she not press the matter any further. She gave in to his stare and returned her attention back to her food and decided that she was no longer hungry.

With so much on her mind, she found it hard to sleep that night, desperately trying to block out the images of Mrs. Weasley being beaten by her father and Ginny being torn away from her grasp and Ron being slashed across the throat for refusing to give up important information. For a brief moment during the night, she found peace when she felt something soft and warm surround her hand and touch her cheek, but that feeling ended only too soon and the nightmares invaded her mind once more. It never occurred to her how odd it seemed that the Weasleys seemed to be replacing her own family while she slept through the horrors until she awoke alone in the dark, cold sweat dripping down her face and drenching her clothes which shook as she heaved unsteady breaths. Although pleased to see she did not wake up in tears, the nightmares that were now burned in her mind had shaken her up and she clambered up the steps of the Burrow to the wash room to take a long, hot shower.

After hastily towel drying her hair, Pandora quietly made her way back down the winding stairs and started boiling water for her tea. She knew it was much too early in the morning to be walking around the kitchen wide awake, but she refused to open her mind to her subconscious once more and decided that sipping a hot, steaming mug of tea would calm her nerves. The warmth of the drink spread through her body as it slid down her throat and her muscles slowly began to relax. Sighing contentedly, she rested her head on her hand and thought about what tomorrow might bring and pondered what everyone`s reaction would be to her gifts. She didn`t know why she cared so much or why she so badly wanted their approval, but Ron`s words to her last night echoed in her mind. That`s what family is there for. If you can`t talk to family then-

"What are you doing up so early?"

Pandora's heart leaped into her throat and she twitched so violently that her tea spilled over the sides and scalded her hand.

"Oh buggering fuck!" she hissed fiercely.

There was a brief sound of scrambling along with a thud of wood – on – wood, and suddenly large, rough hands tenderly held her burnt one.

:::

There it is! I hope it was worth the wait! Again, very sorry. I give you permission to Rictumsempra me =P So review, please, let me know what you think, even one just makes my day. And like I said, I am starting the next chapter right now! The creative juices are floating. The spell I made up here, ink Sentential...well I forgot what it means now =P But what it does is write out the thoughts of the person holding it. I had fun coming up with ideas for the gifts Pandora made too! I like making gifts as well, and this is what I'd do if I wasn't a Squib...sigh. And I wanted to mention my reason for having Pandora be afraid of heights and have no natural ability to fly, even though its very menial. I don't want her to be perfect. She's beautiful, intelligent, quick witted, wise...I just didn't want her to be amazing at Quidditch. Too much, I think. Just wanted to mention that. And I know her past is far from perfect. And now I'm rambling and there probably aren't too many of you reading this far now! Off to finish my next chapter!