"Ah, so you're the infamous Sophie."

"I am. And you must be Charlie."

Fred and I had just arrived at the Burrow on Christmas Eve and I had been officially introduced to Charlie Weasley for the first time. He was beaming at me and shaking my hand emphatically. I couldn't help but notice the burns on his hands, his wrists, and even his neck. It looked like they went down his arms, too, but I couldn't tell due to the sweater he had on. He had the famous Weasley red hair and loads of freckles-probably the most out of any of the Weasleys. His eyes were also brown like Ginny's, Mrs. Weasley's and Percy's as opposed to blue like the rest of the family.

"I've heard quite a bit about you," Charlie said. "Mum says you're a lovely girl, and Ginny says you and Fred snog each other senseless behind the Leaky Cauldron."

"Ginny needs to learn to keep her mouth shut," Fred said with a roll of his eyes as he shrugged off his coat and hung it up on the coat rack by the door. "Besides, she's one to talk. From what Ron told us a few years ago, he and Harry caught her snogging Dean behind a tapestry at Hogwarts. I don't even want to know what places she's moved on to since then."

"Neither do I," Charlie said. "As far as Ginny's concerned, I like to think ignorance is bliss most of the time. Unless she's in trouble. Then I just need to know whose ass I'm kicking." He grinned and lightly punched Fred in the arm. "The same method works just as well for you and George, if not better." He clapped Fred on the shoulder. "In any case-look at you, my baby brother is all grown up!"

"First of all, it hasn't been that long since you've last seen me. I've been grown up for quite a while," Fred said with a roll of his eyes. "Secondly, don't ever use the words baby brother directed at me again. I'm twenty-one, Charlie."

"Still my baby brother," Charlie said with a laugh. "But seriously, you even managed to find all the good places to snog a girl. Merlin knows how many girls I kissed behind the Leaky Cauldron back when I was at school."

"I don't even want to know, so I doubt Merlin does," Fred said with a snort.

"Well, it's seven," Charlie informed us. "One every year when we went to buy our school supplies. Mum would always let us stop and eat lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, remember? And I'd sneak out back with whatever girl I noticed that happened to catch my eye."

"I think I knew you were doing that when George and I were a bit older-maybe the last two years you did it. But I didn't know it was every year! Who were you out there kissing when you were eleven?"

Charlie laughed. "Tonks, believe it or not. She was in my year, remember? Didn't know it at the time, of course. But I saw her at the Leaky Cauldron and I thought she was so cool. She was eleven and had turquoise hair at the time. I'd never seen anything like it."

"So you mean to tell me that Tonks was your first kiss?" Fred asked. "At age eleven? Neither one of you ever mentioned that!"

"Ah, well, all water under the bridge now," Charlie said. He paused. "So what about you?" he asked curiously.

"What about me?" Fred asked, intentionally avoiding Charlie's eyes as well as mine.

"Who else besides Sophie have you kissed behind the Leaky Cauldron? I know there have to be more. Certainly not enough to outdo my seven, but there has to be more than one."

"Charlie, don't be an ass," Fred said, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

I looked away uncomfortably and gazed almost anywhere but at Fred and Charlie. I knew Charlie-and Ginny when she had brought it up last month-were just trying to make Fred sweat. They were teasing him and they knew I could handle the topic. I knew Fred loved me and so did they. But that stupid, naive feeling was back and I couldn't help but be reminded of my lack of experience with romance. Besides that, it also made me a little angry. Angry at just how much of a normal life Eric had ended up robbing from me.

"Go on," Charlie insisted, nudging Fred. "Tell me!"

"No," Fred answered. He was talking to Charlie, but his eyes were on me. He had noticed my discomfort and was studying me with a slight frown.

"Let me guess, then-besides Sophie, there was Angelina...and then there was that Irish girl, remember? She was visiting before your fifth year. We'd just gone to Egypt and you were all staying at the Leaky Cauldron for a few days before school started."

Ah, we were back to that Irish girl.

"Who told you about her?" Fred asked, finally averting his gaze from me to look at Charlie with a frown. "You went directly back to Romania after Egypt."

"Ginny, of course," Charlie answered simply.

"I should've known. She brought her up the other night, too. I don't even remember that girl's name." He gave me a pointed stare.

"Ah, well, there's always at least one we don't remember," Charlie said dismissively. "So-anyone else?"

"No," Fred insisted, pushing off the wall and coming to stand beside me. He slipped a hand into mine and gave it a small squeeze.

"Okay, so next question," Charlie began thoughtfully as he leaned his shoulder against the wall. "Who was the best kisser?"

"You're being an ass," Fred insisted. "Either that or you're just extremely dense."

"It was the Irish girl, wasn't it?" Charlie teased, sending a playful smirk at Fred as he nudged my side with his elbow and winked teasingly. I flinched slightly and looked at the ground.

Fred narrowed his eyes at Charlie. "Just shut up."

"Come on, Fred," Charlie groaned, leaning over to ruffle his brother's hair. "You know I'm just messing around. I'm not being serious. I'm just trying to get your goat."

"I know that, but Sophie doesn't. You'd notice how uncomfortable you're making her if you didn't have the observational skills of a rock."

Charlie finally let the subject drop as he clamped his mouth shut and turned to me. "Sorry," he said. "I really was just messing around. Sometimes new people are uncomfortable by it at first, but I promise it's nothing intentional or personal. I also, according to Ginny, don't have a mental filter. You'll come to see that as well."

"So essentially you're like Fred in that respect," I said with a slight smile. "And George...and Ginny."

"Yeah, pretty much," Charlie said with a laugh. "Bill and Percy were the ones born with filters. Ron hasn't got much of anything up here." He tapped his temple and grinned.

"Don't say that," I said with a slight laugh. "That's not true from what I've seen."

"Ah, well, give it time and you'll see," Charlie joked. He smiled and put a hand on my shoulder. "But you should know...another thing I got from both my mother and Ginny's letters is that Fred really likes you. You may not have been the first girl he kissed behind the Leaky Cauldron, but you are the first girl he crossed continents for to save your life. Something like that matters so much more than kissing behind a pub. But also, for what it's worth, something tells me that you'll be the last girl he'll kiss behind the Leaky Cauldron."

"Charlie," Fred protested as I smiled. "You can't let on how much I like her. It'll scare her off." He let out a laugh and tried to mess up Charlie's hair, but Charlie darted away.

"That was dumb advice," he said. "I know I once told you to play it cool around girls you like, but I was a teenager myself then." He shook his head. "Now the advice is different. Now the advice is to always tell a girl how much you like her."

I couldn't help but smile. "I think that's good advice," I said.

Before Charlie could answer, there was the sound of footsteps rushing down the stairs.

"Sophie?" Ginny called. "Is that Sophie?" She came around the corner and nearly barreled me over as she grabbed my wrist and began pulling me back towards the stairs. "I need to borrow you for a moment," she announced. She looked at Fred. "Sorry!"

I glanced back at Fred in slight alarm, but he just looked amused as he shook his head and shrugged.

"What's the emergency?" I asked Ginny as she pushed open the door to her room and practically dragged me inside. I blinked in slight surprise as I saw that Katie, Hermione, Luna and even Fleur were already inside.

"Wedding planning," Ginny said, finally letting go of my arm.

I looked at everyone else in slight confusion as I perched on the end of Ginny's bed, next to Luna.

"What do you need me for?" I asked. I was still a bit confused and a little surprised at the urgency and also the fact that I was needed for something related to the wedding. Ginny had chosen Hermione and Luna as bridesmaids, as well as Fleur, who was also her sister in law. I didn't see what Katie or I had to do with anything. We'd barely been involved with any of the planning thus far.

"I need you for your opinions," Ginny said, pacing back and forth in front of us. She eventually stopped and looked at us all, a slightly frazzled look in her eye. "Don't you know it takes a village to plan a wedding?"

"I think the saying is that it takes a village to raise a child," Katie piped up. She fell silent when Ginny shot her a look, but then she met my eyes and we both stifled a laugh.

"Regardless," Ginny went on, "I have never had to make so many choices in my life. I've always considered myself a decisive person but all of these options are wearing me down."

"I think wedding planning is getting to her," Hermione said quietly, looking around at all of us.

"You think?" Katie asked. She was met with another glare from Ginny and fell silent again.

Ginny turned to me. "Do you want to see my dress?"

"Of course!" I said. "You already have a dress—that's a big choice off the table right there, isn't it?"

"It was also the easiest," Ginny said, turning for her closet. "It's the smaller choices like flowers and colors and music that's making me insane."

She opened the closet door and pulled out a gorgeous lace dress. It was form fitting and embellished with a thin silver belt. The shoulder straps were made of flowery lace as well and the dress had a low back and a lovely sweetheart neckline.

"It's beautiful, Ginny," I whispered. "I bet it looks great on you."

"It does, that's why I picked it," Ginny said with a smile. "But you like it too? You think Harry will like it?"

"Harry wouldn't care if you walked down the aisle in a burlap sack," I told her with a shrug. "What really matters is if you like it. If you like it, he'll like it."

"Sounds like we are all in agreement," Fleur said with a raised eyebrow. She turned to me. "She 'as asked us all repeatedly about zee dress. As if what we theenk matters."

"It does!" Ginny exclaimed.

"It's your wedding," Katie told her.

Ginny nodded and let out a long exhale before putting her dress away. "So what about flowers? I was thinking of lilies. You know, for Harry's Mum. We can just do white or get them in another color, but I don't know what ones to pick!"

"Definitely not pink," Katie said. "You hate pink and it wouldn't go well with a family full of red heads."

"Definitely not pink," Ginny agreed.

"I don't see what's wrong with white," I said. "You could do white and maybe a sort of golden color. Have them magically altered, you know? It would go well for the season and gold is one of the Gryffindor colors, isn't it?"

"And the color of a snitch," Ginny said, snapping her fingers. "Gold is perfect." She nodded her head. "Gold and white." She grinned at me. "See? This is why opinions are helpful. This is why I need you here."

"You could have come up with that yourself quite easily, Ginny," Luna pointed out.

"Maybe, but my mind is so boggled down with stuff that it could've taken twice as long."

I sighed and shared a look with the other girls in the room. "Is this really what planning a wedding does to people?"

Fleur nodded. "Unfortunately, yes."

"You would be the only other one here to know," Hermione said.

"I can't believe Ron hasn't asked you yet," Katie said.

"Perhaps during the holiday," Luna said airily. "I thought he seemed kind of off when I saw him earlier."

"Off?" Hermione asked, looking at Luna in confusion and slight alarm. "How do you mean?"

"Just kind of like he was lost in thought," Luna shrugged. "I don't think it was Wrackspurts, but of course I couldn't be completely sure. I didn't bring my Spectrespecks with me."

"Have you noticed him acting different, Hermione?" Ginny asked. "Personally, I haven't noticed anything odd, but then again, Ron is always acting weird as far as I'm concerned."

Hermione shook her head. "I haven't noticed anything either."

"Well, it's only a matter of time," Ginny said. "Now that Harry's gone and asked me, I'm sure Ron will want to get a move on as well. Although, one of us might have to give him a little nudge."

"Oh, but don't make it obvious if you do," Hermione said anxiously.

Ginny scoffed. "Please. I would never. I know just how to handle this sort of thing and I know just how to handle my brother. If it were Fred and George, they would be obvious."

The six of us spent the next hour in Ginny's room. She went through a few more things she was working on for the wedding. Everything from food and music to place settings and centerpieces. And the rest of the time, we just talked, which was nice. I was struck with mild surprise at one point at how natural this was. I had gone from having no friends at all to having two groups of girl friends to spend time with, plus the twins-and one of which was my actual boyfriend.

"Oh, before I forget," Ginny suddenly said urgently, sitting up quickly from her spot where she was lying on the bed. "What table should we sit Auntie Muriel at for dinner? Who are going to be the lucky people that get to sit with her all evening?"

"Can't you sit her by herself?" Katie asked. "She can't insult anyone that way."

"I wish," Ginny snorted. "But Mum'll kill me."

"Can't you put 'er weeth your parents?" Fleur asked.

"I could, but then I think Dad will kill me," Ginny said.

"I wish you didn't have to invite her at all," Katie went on. "At Bill and Fleur's wedding, she told Hermione that her ankles were too skinny, told Luna that she and her father looked like fried eggs because of their yellow robes, told me that my neck was too short, and that you, Ginny, had even more freckles than ever."

"But she did admit that the color of my dress complimented my skin and my hair," Ginny said.

"Who is this woman?" I asked. "She sounds positively lovely."

"Mum's great aunt," Ginny said. "She hardly ever has a nice thing to say about anyone." She smiled at me and lightly punched my shoulder. "Don't worry, I won't seat you with her. I couldn't put her with someone who was just meeting her for the first time. That would be even more torturous than any of us having to sit with her."

"That would still be torture," Katie said. "Even though we've met her, it doesn't make it any less worse seeing her again."

"But the first time," Ginny argued with a wince, "is always tough. Traumatizing, even. Also, if I stuck Muriel with Sophie, then that would mean that Fred has to sit with her too and then it would be him murdering me. But only after he and George snuck me a Canary Cream and had me turning into a bird on my wedding day." She shuddered.

"Which is somehow worse than being murdered on your wedding day?" Fleur asked with a laugh.

"Yes," Ginny insisted with a laugh of her own. "I'd much rather be a corpse bride than a canary. Corpse brides are very Halloween chic."

"Merlin, you're morbid," I said as the others started laughing as well. But even I had started to smile.

Finally, there was a knock on the door and Fred stuck his head in. "Dinner's ready," he said.

"Ginny's going to be a corpse bride," Katie announced, "and it's all your fault." She and Ginny both let out cackles of laughter. Ginny even grabbed her pillow and pressed it against her face.

"She's also currently delirious with wedding stress," Hermione said. She lightly shoved Ginny's knee. "Come on, it wasn't that funny."

"What did I do?" Fred asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. He came fully into the room and came to sit on the bed next to me. "I mean, usually I wouldn't question people being quick to blame me, because they're usually right. But being to blame for my sister being a corpse bride?" He thought for a moment. "Am I being blamed for murder here? Because I think that's pretty low, even for me."

"She was about to seat you next to Muriel at the wedding," Luna informed him.

"Oh, then I take that back," Fred said, "Ginny's getting pushed off the roof." He leaned over and put Ginny in a headlock as she squirmed to fight him off. When he finally let her go, he leaned back against the headboard and lifted his feet up, resting them right in my lap.

"Fred," I scoffed. "Really?"

"What, do they stink?" he asked, wiggling his toes.

"No, but I didn't realize I was your own personal foot rest," I said, looking at him in mild amusement.

"Just this once," he said with a wink. He turned to Ginny. "Anyway, where are you putting Muriel for the wedding?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Ginny groaned.

"You could put her with Mum and Dad and the rest of the family, but then they would all kill you. Except Mum. She is always pushing us to be nice to the old bat, even though she definitely hates her just as much."

"Right," Ginny said. "That's essentially what I said. Nobody else wants to sit with her. Understandably."

"I'm apparently off the hook because I've never met her before," I said. "From what I've heard, this woman is brutal."

"She is, believe me," Fred said.

"What insults did she fling at you the last time you saw her?" I asked. "I've already heard about Hermione's skinny ankles, Katie's short neck, Ginny's freckles, and Luna's yellow robes."

"I got told off for being immature, needing a haircut, being too tall, and she once again brought up that George and I only received three OWLs each and didn't even take our NEWTs. She said we had wasted potential."

"Wasted potential?" I asked in shock. "How is your potential possibly being wasted doing what you do?"

Fred laughed. "I appreciate your support. And that's exactly what George and I told her. That we're not wasting anything. We love what we do, we're good at it, and our exam results have not effected us in any way. I've told you that George and I were set on opening a joke shop since we were thirteen. We worked hard to be able to do just that. Focused on the subjects we needed, figured out what each of us were good at—George is better at Potions and Arithmancy, I'm better at Transfiguration and Charms, and then worked on forming ideas and then making them a reality. Focusing our attention on anything else would've been a waste of potential."

"Exactly. You worked hard to get where you are," I said.

"Tell that to Muriel when you meet her, yeah?" Fred asked with a laugh. "Not that she'll listen, but it'll probably rattle her cage to see you defending me."

I groaned. "Yes, rattling the cage of this woman sounds exactly like something I want to do."

"Well, if she insults you, which she will, don't take it personally," Fred said, sitting up and dropping his feet to the floor. He stood and reached out to pull me to my feet as well. "Clearly, she doesn't know what she's talking about anyway." He leaned down and quickly kissed me before tugging me towards the door. "Now everyone get downstairs before Mum starts yelling that dinner's getting cold."

We all headed down the stairs and into the kitchen. Despite the large amount of people, the room didn't feel as crowded as I expected. I thought that maybe some kind of undetectable enlargement charm had been put on the room for the time being because there were quite a few of us. Fifteen, including little Victoire, who was currently being held in Charlie's lap-and he didn't seem to want to let her go.

"Sit her in her high chair, Charlie," Mrs. Weasley said as we all sat down. "Come on now, this way she won't try to get into anything and you can eat."

"Fine, fine," Charlie said. He began situating Victoire in the high chair. "It's just that I'm hardly home so when I am, I have to steal all the niece time, I can get." He tickled Victoire under her chin. "Isn't that right, Vic? Yeah, isn't Uncle Charlie your absolute favorite?"

"Bullshit," Fred said. "You just said that you're hardly ever home. She probably doesn't even know who you are. No, her favorite uncle is me."

"Now that is bullshit," George said. "You're too ugly. Her favorite is me. Least favorite is Ron."

Ron sent George a rude hand gesture, while Hermione swatted him and shot him a glare.

Mrs. Weasley put her hands on her hips and sent Ron a glare as well. "Ron!" she scolded before turning to the twins. "And you two! Can't you watch your language at the dinner table on Christmas Eve?"

"Not when Charlie is spewing such outrageous lies," Fred said.

"You are all 'er favorite uncles," Fleur said. "Let's not start a debate tonight, please."

"My thoughts exactly," Mrs. Weasley said, taking off her apron and sitting down next to her husband. "Come on, everyone, dig in."

"This looks great, Mrs. Weasley," I told her.

"Thank you, dear," she answered, beaming at me. "What were your mother's plans for tonight?"

"She's actually just spending the night with Tom and Martha," I said. "They invited her. But she'll be here for dinner tomorrow. I think she feels like even though she came here so that she and I can try and start over, she wants to give me my space as well. We have been spending a lot of time together otherwise. She lives right downstairs, we work together, and she's even come with me here a few times. She just doesn't want to overstep."

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Do you get to spend any time alone with her?"

"Yeah, we eat lunch together three times a week," I said. "And she sometimes comes up to join me, Tom and Martha for tea at night."

"That's wonderful," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Rachel told me she's trying to get her together with some guy who sometimes comes into the Leaky Cauldron?" Ginny asked with a laugh.

"Yeah, Rachel's trying to play matchmaker. She did the same thing with me when I first got here. She uses the fact that she successfully set up her cousin Chris with Kayla as some sort of testimonial to her being good at it."

"Do you think your mother actually likes the guy?" Bill asked. "Do you think she'll stay here?"

I shrugged. "No, I don't think she's interested in dating him or anyone else. Not right now, at least. As farAs her staying, maybe she will, maybe she won't. But either way, I know I'm staying. My mother promised that if she were to leave, she wouldn't do so until we were both okay with it. And that if she did leave, I'd be able to contact or visit her at any time. She made it clear that her leaving did not mean she was deserting me again. And I believe her. So that's comforting. It almost makes me feel like I can have both. Some kind of relationship with her, but while I also stay here, which is where I want to be."

"You can have both," Mrs. Weasley said. "Your mother seems to really want this just as much as you do, but she also respects your decisions and that her actions have had consequences. You've built really strong relationships with a lot of other people in her absence. And honestly, you should've never had to feel like you had to choose to begin with. I know what happened isn't entirely her fault, but regardless, everything that happened to you should not have happened. Ultimately, If you hadn't been targeted the way you had, you could've had a nice, normal, loving life growing up in Salem."

"But then we never would have met her," Fred said. "I never would've met her." He glanced at me. "I wish you didn't have to go through all that you did—believe me. But I'm really glad I stepped on your foot that night back in May." He smiled at me as I giggled.

"You know, I think it finally stopped hurting just the other day," I joked.

"Liar," Fred teased.

"You stepped on her foot?" Charlie practically gasped. "Have Bill and I taught you nothing? You're supposed to shake hands, say hello, compliment her, flirt a bit. Not step on her foot."

"Tried all that other stuff," Fred said, shaking his head. "Sophie barely spoke or even reacted, looked at George and I as if we had ten heads, and when I did finally try to shake her hand, she looked as if it were a completely foreign concept." He winked at me. "I had to explain it to her."

"And then he had to go even further to get her attention by hitting her with a door," George said. "Since she wasn't impressed by the handshake."

"You hit her with a door?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "Fred!"

I held back a laugh as Fred held up his hands in protest.

"It was an accident and I apologized!" He exclaimed. "And I checked for a concussion and got her ice."

"How many times have I told you that you're like a bull in a china shop?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Way too many to count, Mum," Fred said with a laugh.

"It sounds fishy to me," Charlie said. "You hit her in the head and then she decides to date you?" He made a suspicious face and studied Fred. "You might've given her a head injury after all."

"Charles Septimus Weasley, that is not funny!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed.

"Ooh, not the middle name," Charlie said in mock fear.

Fred reached for the bowl of potatoes in the center of the table. "I'm going to dump these on your ugly head in a minute," he said with a laugh.

"Put it down, Fred," Mrs. Weasley demanded. "It's Christmas Eve. Please."

Fred did as she said, and settled for aiming a rude hand gesture Charlie's way.

"Fred!" Mrs. Weasley scowled. "You're setting such a lovely example for your niece, you know."

"Vic doesn't even know what's going on," Fred laughed.

"Well-well, what about Sophie then?"

"What about Sophie?" Fred asked.

"You don't think you should behave in front of her?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Fred laughed. "No, Sophie knows how much I appreciate a well deserved rude hand gesture. Isn't that right. Soph?" He nudged my side and I smiled briefly as I rolled my eyes.

"And how would she know that?" Mrs. Weasley narrowed her eyes at Fred. "Please do not tell me that you've done that same rude gesture to Sophie."

"Okay, I won't tell you," Fred shrugged, going back to his food.

"Fred, honestly," Mrs. Weasley sighed. "What happened to being a gentleman?"

"I have been so nice to Sophie," Fred insisted. "Didn't she just tell you recently how nice I was? She gave a wonderful little speech."

Mrs. Weasley looked at me and I nodded. Only then did she seem to soften.

"In fact," Fred went on, "Sophie's not even as innocent as you think. She gave me a rude hand gesture back."

"Fred!" I squealed, smacking his arm as the whole table burst into laughter, even Mrs. Weasley.

"As she should have," she said.

"Wait, so you're not mad at her for it?" Fred asked incredulously.

"It seemed like it was well deserved," Mrs Weasley said with a teasing smile. "Which you've said you appreciate, yes?"

Fred gaped at her. "She was deserving of one, too, believe me."

"Sophie is deserving of nothing but love and sunshine," Charlie declared as he for up to get himself another drink. He smiled and squeezed ruffled my hair on the way by me.

"Thanks, Charlie," I giggled.

"You'd better watch out, Freddie," Charlie said, uncapping his butterbeer and taking a sip, looking at Fred with a crooked, good natured smile as he did so. "Or else I'm going to steal your girl from you."

Fred stiffened and I winced. Charlie clearly hadn't thought his words through and he wasn't trying to be malicious-he was only teasing-but he'd struck a nerve.

"Charlie, you're an idiot, you know that?" Bill said with a roll of his eyes.

"Oh, shit," Charlie said, his eyes going wide. He deflated a bit before putting a hand on Fred's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't think."

Fred nodded as he stared down at his hands. Then, he grinned and looked up at Charlie. "You're still an idiot though." And then he smacked the underside of Charlie's butterbeer, causing some of it to splash out of the top. A few drops hit me in the face and I closed my eyes as I turned away.

"Fred Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley shouted.

"Sorry, Soph, sorry," Fred said, leaning over and wrapping his arms around me as he pressed small, quick kisses to the side of my face. "I love you."

"Yeah, yeah," I laughed, trying to push him away. "I love you, too. Even if you are a bull in a china shop."

Once dinner was done and the dishes were cleared away, we moved to the living room, where Mrs. Weasley aimed her wand at the wireless radio and turned it on. A woman's singing voice filled the room and everyone collectively groaned. I looked around the room in confusion. I had no idea what was so horrible about the woman's singing. I wasn't sure I'd call it my kind of music, but I'd also heard way worse.

"Oh, hush," Mrs. Weasley said, sitting down in an armchair by the fire. "It's two days out of the whole year."

"I don't get it," I whispered to Fred as we made ourselves comfortable on the couch.

Fred groaned. "We forgot to warn you about Celestina Warbeck."

"Who's Celestina Warbeck?" I asked.

Fred gestured to the radio. "The woman wailing on the radio about her cauldron full of hot strong love."

I fought back a laugh and glanced at Mrs. Weasley to see if she'd noticed. It didn't seem like she had, but she had heard Fred's comment.

"Celestina does not wail," she said.

"She does," Fred said. He turned to me. "Mum makes us listen to Celestina's Christmas special every year. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. It's torture."

Mrs. Weasley let out a huff of annoyance. "Your father and I—"

"Danced to this song when you were eighteen," George interrupted. "We know."

"I think that's sweet," I said.

"Sophie," Fred groaned, clapping a hand to his forehead.

"I didn't say I liked the song," I muttered leaning closer to him to minimize the chances of Mrs. Weasley hearing me.

"So you don't want to stir Celestina's cauldron full of hot strong love?" Fred teased.

"Do you?" I asked with a laugh.

Fred shook his head. "Maybe if it were your cauldron." He leaned over and pressed a slow kiss to my cheek.

"Oh, shut up," I said, shoving his shoulder gently.

A little later in the night, Mrs. Weasley made us all hot chocolate with cinnamon sticks. Ginny asked if everyone could open just one gift tonight, and after a little prodding—which was really more like intense begging from Ginny and the twins—Mrs. Weasley agreed as long as she chose the gifts we'd open. Beaming, she passed out similarly wrapped gifts to Mr. Weasley, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Fred, George, Katie, Ron, Ginny, Harry, Hermione and even me.

I took the gift almost in slight surprise at first and noticed Fred looking at me with a wide smile, as if he knew something I didn't. "What?" I asked.

"I just know what it is," he said. "And I think you'll like it."

"Go on, Sophie, you go first," Mrs. Weasley beamed. "Open it."

I turned my attention back to the gift and gently slid my finger under one of the taped flaps.

"Oh, go on, rip it," Charlie urged.

With a laugh, I did as he said and ripped the paper off to reveal a sweater. But not just any sweater—one of Mrs. Weasley's homemade ones. It was deep purple with a golden S in the center.

"It's beautiful," I whispered, holding the sweater up and staring at it in awe. I hadn't quite realized until now just what having a Weasley sweater of my own would mean to me. Even though I'd been thoroughly accepted into their family from the beginning, this was almost as if I had a physical, tangible, official token of acceptance.

"You like it?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"I love it," I said, standing up to hug her tightly. "This means so much to me," I whispered. She hugged me a little tighter for a moment before letting me go.

"You're one of us, now, Soph," George said as everyone else began tearing open their own sweaters.

I couldn't help but smile as I sat down again next to Fred. I was able to get a quick glance of his deep blue sweater with a yellow F before he'd automatically switched with George, who had the same color sweater, but with a G on the front. They instantly slipped the sweaters over their heads.

"Can't tell us apart now," Fred joked.

"Well, telling by the fact that you're sitting next to Sophie and just put your arm around her shoulders..." Bill said thoughtfully, "I'd still say you're Fred unless you and George have switched girlfriends as well as sweaters?"

Fred and George looked at each other, communicating silently before they both stood up and switched seats.

"What about now?" Fred asked, throwing an arm around Katie's shoulders as George did the same to me.

"I just love you so much!" He declared in an overly dramatic tone as he squeezed my shoulders. "I can't wait to stir your cauldron of hot strong love tonight!"

"Hey, take the dramatics down a notch, yeah?" Fred warned as I let out a laugh.

"Well, I would have been completely fooled," Charlie teased, "if only George had two ears."

"What was that?" George asked, cupping his hand around the spot where his left ear should have been. "You're a complete fool?"

Charlie grabbed the throw pillow resting on the armchair he was sitting on and flung it at George. I squealed and held my hands up in front of my face as the pillow sailed towards us and bounced off the back of the couch. George grabbed it and flung it back at Charlie, almost knocking over Fred's mug of hot chocolate in the process.

"Watch the drinks, will you?" Mrs. Weasley said irritably. "And go easy on the furniture!"

"Charlie almost takes off my other ear by hurling pillows at me and you're worried about the furniture?" George gasped.

"Oh, George, don't be so dramatic."

"He's not George, I am!" Fred cried. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother."

Mrs. Weasley groaned and buried her head in her hands. "Can't we all just sit and enjoy Celestina Warbeck?" she asked.

Everyone in the room answered at once with a resounding, "No."

It was close to midnight by the time everyone began to file up to bed. Luna went home for the night and so did Katie, but everyone else began to make their way upstairs to their respective bedrooms. Fred, George and I were staying over for the night and I was rooming with Ginny and Hermione.

Fred grabbed my elbow and leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Meet me back down here in twenty minutes?" he asked. "I have to give you something."

I nodded. "Yeah, sure...twenty minutes. See you then." I leaned up and kissed him before heading for the stairs. I changed into my pajamas, which now included my new Weasley sweater, and waited for Ginny and Hermione to get into bed and turn out the lights. Within moments, I could tell by their breathing that they were asleep. And that was when I got out of bed and tiptoed back down the stairs, wincing as I accidentally hit a few that creaked.

The first floor was almost completely dark by now, with only the last few embers glowing in the fireplace. I made my way towards the living room, figuring I'd turn on a light while I waited. But I'd barely taken two steps when I suddenly found that I couldn't move. My feet felt like they were glued to the floor. I gasped and looked down. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but then again, it was dark.

"Lumos," I said, lighting up the tip of my wand and examining the floor near my feet. Nothing. But my feet were still stuck.

"You're looking in the wrong direction."

I unsteadily straightened up and craned my neck to see Fred casually leaning against the wall behind me, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched me in amusement.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Look up," he suggested with a smirk.

I did as he said, raising my wand as I did so, and I let out a breath of laughter when I noticed the mistletoe hanging there. "Your doing?" I asked.

"Mm," Fred nodded. "It's a new item for the shop, actually. Traps someone underneath the mistletoe until another person kisses them free."

"Couldn't that backfire?" I asked.

"How so?"

I shrugged. "Well...what if the only people around were family? Or what if a child gets stuck under it? Or just two people who don't want to kiss? Like what if-for example-I got stuck under it with one of your brothers?"

Fred shuddered. "Don't ever put that thought into my head again," he said. He let out a laugh. "But also...why would anyone hang this mistletoe up around only their family?"

"Well...take you for example," I said. "Most people here are your family. The probability is higher of two family members getting caught underneath together. And I'm guessing there's a reason why you waited to put this up until they'd all gone to bed and you knew I'd be coming downstairs."

"Well, it just so happens that a simple kiss on the cheek will do. I never said it required a full on snogging. Although that does work just as well."

"Oh," I said, as Fred wandered closer until he was standing under the mistletoe with me.

Fred laughed. "Oh," he repeated. "I thought you'd left your former favorite word behind."

"Not entirely," I whispered, looking up at him as my heart pounded in my chest.

"Merry Christmas, Soph," Fred said quietly. And then he leaned down and kissed me. My feet became unstuck almost immediately, and I only knew they did because I moved them to shift slightly closer to Fred.

Finally, he pulled away and smiled at me, taking my hand as he did so and leading me to the couch. He used his wand to light another fire in the fireplace before turning back to me. "I wanted to give you one of your Christmas gifts early," he said. "It's something I wanted to give you while we were alone."

"Was it the kiss you just gave me?" I joked.

Fred laughed. "No, actually." He leaned over and pulled out a gift from behind one of the couch pillows before handing it to me.

I took it from him before staring down at it and running my hands over the wrapping paper. I hadn't had a proper Christmas in general, or even received a proper gift in so long that I almost wanted to savor the feeling of finally getting one, even though this was the second gift I'd opened tonight. The feeling of amazement just hadn't quite worn off yet.

"You can open it, you know," Fred whispered.

"I know, I was just...admiring it," I said.

"I didn't do that great of a job with the wrapping," Fred laughed. "I promise you that you'll like what's inside a lot more."

I smiled at him before ripping open the paper and pulling out the item inside. It was a black leather bound book with a pattern of silvery stars in various sizes covering it. In the center of the cover was a rectangular space for a photo and inside that space was a photo of a place I recognized.

It was the pond behind the Burrow. Taken from the side of the dock closest to shore and angled straight down the center. The sun was setting and reflecting off the water, backlighting the figure sitting sideways at the other end of the dock and staring out at the water. I watched as the photo magically moved, as they were known to do when they were developed using magic. The figure sitting on the dock turned in surprise, the sun glinting off her hair, and I suddenly remembered the day I'd been sitting out there after trying on Elizabeth's necklace. I'd been lost in thought and finally snapped out of it when I heard the click of a camera shutter. I'd turned to see Free crouching at the other end of the dock, taking my photo. It was actually the day he'd given me the camera to keep.

"That's me," I said. "This was the photo you took with my camera..."

"It is," Fred said. "Go on, open the book."

I flipped open to the first page to see more photos from that day. The photo I'd taken of Fred balancing on the end of the dock, his arms thrown out to the side, his head cast downward as he smiled slightly, his red hair lit up like fire from the sun. I watched as the photo moved, as Fred looked up in surprise and blinked at the camera, wobbling slightly and righting himself before smiling again.

There was the picture I'd taken of him on our walk back to the Burrow that day, after he'd called me pretty. Then there were pictures of Salem. Pictures of the water, the sunset, flowers and historical houses. Pictures from that night on the boat when we'd gone to the park afterwards. The very last photo was the one Fred had taken of us at the park. When he'd splashed me with water, then chased me, grabbed me around the waist and taken my camera, holding it out in front of us for a photo. His chin was on my shoulder and he was grinning. I watched as the photo version of Fred smiled at the camera while the photo version of me tilted my head back with a laugh.

"This is beautiful, Fred," I whispered, running my fingertips over the photos. "I look so happy."

"You were happy," he said. "For a night, you managed to forget everything that had happened or that was currently going on and just be a twenty-one year old girl hanging out with her friends."

My chest constricted slightly and I closed my eyes and let out a sigh. "Thank you...so much. I love it."

"There's still a lot of room left for more photos, so you'll have to get going and fill those pages up."

"Of course," I said with a laugh. I closed the album and looked up at Fred. "Like I said, I love it. And I love you."

"I love you too," he whispered.

"I actually want to give you one of your presents now, too," I said. "Oddly, it's something that I also felt I should give you in private." I reached into the pocket of my pajama bottoms and pulled out a small item I'd wrapped in gold paper with a little silver ribbon. "I wondered if it was overstepping... It was also only something you had mentioned briefly, but..." I trailed off, knowing that I was rambling and handed the gift to Fred. "Merry Christmas."

He took the gift and turned it over in his hand a few times before pulling off the ribbon and then the paper. And then his mouth promptly fell open.

"Sophie, where did you ever find this?"

I couldn't quite read his tone. He sounded shocked, but I wasn't sure if it was a good kind or a bad kind of shocked. I watched him hold the small gold Head Boy badge up to his face and inspect it.

"Under Percy's bed," I said. "When I was staying here, I was helping your mother clean the house and I offered to do Percy's room. She had said it was still difficult to go inside and some weeks couldn't even manage it at all..." I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "Anyway, I saw the badge under the bed and I cleaned it off and shined it. I would've figured out what it was anyway, but when I saw that it still said Bighead Boy, I knew at once. You mentioned wanting it back-that night out in the shed, remember? I'm sorry I didn't give it to you sooner. I meant to, but there was a lot going on, and then it got to the point where I thought I should just wrap it and give it to you now, at Christmas. I thought you'd still appreciate it."

"Sophie..." Fred said quietly. He was holding the badge in his lap now and was looking down at it as he traced his thumb over the words, so I couldn't see his face. "I had convinced myself that this had just gotten lost or donated with his things when we finally cleared out some of his room. I thought it was gone forever. I never thought I'd get it back and especially never thought you could do anything about it."

"Well...it wasn't lost forever," I said quietly. I bit my lip as I watched him continue to stare down at the badge.

The firelight reflected off of the shiny gold metal as Fred turned it back and forth in his hand. Finally, he inhaled deeply through his nose and leaned back into the couch, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. I saw his lip tremble slightly before he seemed to compose himself.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I just thought—"

"Don't apologize," Fred said, lowering his hands from his eyes and sniffing slightly. He looked at me and shook his head. "You have nothing to apologize for. This means a lot to me. Honestly."

"I had hoped it would be a fond memory that might actually make you smile when you looked at it. I didn't want to drag up all the pain again, but maybe it was stupid to think that. All of it is painful when you lose someone."

"No," Fred said. "I thought that too once. That all of it was painful. I tried to shove every single memory of Percy away into a locked corner of my mind. But that's impossible. And they'd eventually all come flooding out at once and mix with the guilt and sorrow and yeah, that was painful. But if I'd just done what Ginny had been doing all along—and the rest of my family, too—and just kept talking about him instead of trying to forget...I think it would've been easier from the start. It has been getting easier recently. I don't feel guilty anymore—only a little bit sometimes. And I don't feel as confused and angry and miserable. I can handle talking about him, little by little, and I can handle the memories, one or two at a time. It's way better than feeling all of it at once. Feeling all of it at once, including the guilt and grief...it was destroying me."

I reached out and put a hand on his knee as I blinked back tears. I felt a few escape and slide down my cheeks.

"What are you crying for?" Fred asked with a chuckle. He reached out and wiped the tears away with his thumb.

"It hurts a lot more now knowing you were in as much pain as you were. Obviously, I've really grown to care about you. A lot. And to think when I first came here I didn't want to get involved. I didn't want to know your story. I didn't want any part of it. I wanted to get my shit together and leave. And now..." I trailed off and shook my head.

"I know," Fred said. "If you remember, I didn't want you to get too involved either. I liked you enough, of course, and did want to be your friend, but I also liked how normal I felt around you. Because you didn't know me. You didn't pity me. I wanted to be friends, but with one sided emotions. I was getting involved and invested with your life, but I wasn't allowing you to do the same with me."

"And I still couldn't stay away from you," I said with a laugh. "And at the same time, I was trying to block you out. Clearly, we both failed."

Fred laughed and pulled me closer to him. He tugged my legs up across his lap and rested one hand on my thigh and the other around my shoulders as I rested my head in the crook of his neck.

"By the way, that sweater looks great on you," he told me.

"Thanks," I whispered. "I love it." I tilted my head to look up at him and he looked down at me with a soft smile. He leaned in and kissed me, deepening it after a moment and then eventually shifting so that he was hovering above me on the couch.

A few moments later, I felt his hand slip under the hem of the sweater. It stayed on my hip for a bit before sliding upwards slightly. I stiffened involuntarily snd Fred pulled back slightly. "Sorry," he whispered, meeting my eyes and looking at me apologetically as he started to pull away even more.

I reached out and stopped him. "Wait," I whispered back. I closed my eyes for a moment and took in a slow breath through my nose. Calm down, Sophie, I told myself. Calm down. It's just Fred. No one is going to hurt you. Finally I opened my eyes and looked at Fred determinedly. "Keep going," I said.

"Are you sure?" He asked in surprise.

I nodded. "Yeah. Keep going."

Fred swallowed and looked at me for a moment before leaning in and kissing me again. I kissed him back, resting one hand on his chest and the other on the side of his neck, as his hand trailed further up my side. Soon, I could barely think straight at all, never mind about anything that would cause me to freak out.

Suddenly, there was the noise of a door opening from upstairs, followed immediately by the sound of a baby crying.

"Damnit, it's Fleur and Victoire," Fred muttered. "Sometimes the baby doesn't sleep all the way through the night. She doesn't sleep here often enough to be used to it yet..." He gave me one final kiss and pulled back completely. "Roll over on your side," he said as we heard footsteps on the stairs. "Pretend you're asleep."

I did as he said and he made himself comfortable lying behind me. We heard Fleur stop at the bottom of the stairs before moving into the kitchen as she tried to sooth Victoire back to sleep.

"That baby is a buzzkill," Fred breathed into my ear as I laughed quietly.

"I agree," I answered.

The two of us lay there in silence, waiting for Fleur to go back upstairs, but we ended up falling asleep before that even happened.

I woke up a few hours later with a gasp as my eyes flew open. I was shaking and covered in sweat. Fred was still laying behind me on the couch and I managed to slowly disentangle myself from him as I stood up shakily.

I'd just had another nightmare. It was similar to all the others: Eric was chasing me, I was running, he caught up and pinned me to the ground, wielding a knife. But this time, I'd turned my head to one side and seen Noah's body, just the way it had looked the night I'd found him. But there had seemed to be so much blood. Had there really been that much blood?

I'd then turned my head to the other side and that time, I'd seen Fred, lying there with a knife in his chest. He was facing me, his eyes wide and unseeing. His whole face was ghostly pale, even his lips. The only spot of color was the blood on his chest and the trail of blood trickling from his mouth. That was when I had screamed-in my dream at least. I didn't think I'd screamed in reality because no one had woken up. I'd managed to instead to contain it to one loud gasp.

I slowly made my way to the kitchen, rubbing my eyes and trying to stop myself from shaking. I made a beeline for the sink and splashed some water on my face before resting my hands on the edge of the counter and trying to erase the images of the nightmare from my mind.

After a few seconds, I brought my hands up to cover my mouth as I started crying. My hands muffled the sob that escaped and I squeezed my eyes shut as I fought to remain as quiet as possible.

"Just when I thought the late night crying was over," a voice said from behind me.

I gasped and spun around to see Fleur at the kitchen table with Victoire in her arms. The room was dark and I'd been so preoccupied that I hadn't even noticed her.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. "In the dark?" I sniffled slightly and wiped at my eyes.

"Victoire woke up crying," Fleur said. "I was trying to get 'er to back to sleep and thought zee darkness would help. Besides, I noticed you and Fred sleeping on the couch and didn't want to wake you with zee light." She paused. "Although, that didn't change the fact that an infant crying was more likely to wake you anyway."

"It didn't," I said quietly, sitting across from her at the table. I rested my elbows on the worn wood and then buried my head in my hands.

"So why did you wake up crying?" Fleur asked. "Victoire doesn't like waking up in unusual places, even though she's been here many times. I guess it still isn't all that familiar to her yet." She smiled slightly. "I don't think that's your issue, though."

"I had a nightmare," I said, lifting my head and dragging my hands down my face as I sighed.

There was a pause as Fleur waited to see if I would elaborate. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I swallowed and continued to stare up at the ceiling. "I always have similar variations of the same nightmare. At first it was Eric chasing me, catching up to me, pinning me down and trying to kill me. After Noah died, I'd see his body in the dreams. When I was in Salem I had one where Eric turned into Fred and he was the one trying to kill me. And tonight, it was Eric again, but I saw Noah again, and this time, Fred. With a knife in his chest." I took in a shuddering breath. "I can't keep doing this," I whispered.

"How frequent are the nightmares?" Fleur asked.

"They used to be pretty regular," I said. "Almost every night. Now they come about three times a week, but they're more intense. I don't know which one is better."

"Neither," Fleur said. "You shouldn't have to deal with them at all."

"Well I don't know how to make them go away," I answered.

"Probably just with time," Fleur said. "I know it is not the quickest option, but..." She trailed off and shrugged as she looked at me thoughtfully. "What about the Potion of Dreamless Sleep? It's a fairly complex one to brew but it's supposed to work very well."

"I suppose," I said. "But I never know when I'll get the nightmares. And to take a potion every night just in anticipation of one..."

"It's not the best, I know," Fleur said. "Taking it so frequently could make you too dependent on it. But you could always take it after a nightmare. I know it sounds counterproductive, but at least it'll help you fall back to sleep immediately without having to sit awake dwelling on images your mind made up."

"I suppose you have a point."

"Have you talked to Fred about them?"

"Not in detail," I answered. "He knows I get them, but I haven't told him that he's started to appear in them now."

"Maybe you should," Fleur said. "It might help."

"That's what he said, too. He said he wants me to talk about them, but it's so hard, you know?"

"Yeah, but it really could be helpful. Talking to him about eet, you know? Getting eet off your chest. And he might even have an actual idea of how to help them go away completely. He's got a lot of ideas inside that head of his."

I let out a snort of laughter. "He does, that's for sure."

Fleur smiled before slowly getting to her feet. "I theenk I'll try putting her back to bed," she said, gesturing to Victoire with her chin. "She's asleep now, but she could wake up again any second. Quite possibly the second I put her down. Wish me luck."

I smiled. "Good luck," I whispered as Fleur passed me and headed for the stairs. Once she was gone, I let out a sigh, rubbed my eyes and leaned back in my chair. A few moments went by of complete silence-other than the sounds of Fred occasionally shifting on the couch in the next room.

I stood up and went back into the living room to find that Fred was now sprawled over the entire couch, leaving no room for me to even lay back down next to him. So instead, I perched on the edge of the couch and lightly ran a hand through his hair as I watched his chest rise and fall with every breath. I put a hand on his chest and felt my hand move with his breathing. This was reality. No knife, no blood. Fred was alive and he was breathing. Eric was the one who was dead and the only place he could hurt me now was in my dreams. Which was still quite unfortunate.

After a second, I leaned down and pressed a kiss to Fred's forehead before standing up. I felt a hand gently grab my wrist and I turned to see Fred staring blearily up at me through sleepy, squinted eyes.

"Where are you going?" he murmured.

"I was going to go back to Ginny's room," I whispered. A tiny smile lifted up the corner of my mouth. "You're kind of taking up the whole couch now. There's not enough room."

"Sorry," Fred sighed, letting go of my wrist and rubbing his eyes as he sat up and looked around. "What time is it?"

"I actually don't know," I said. "Fleur just brought the baby back up to bed. She was still in the kitchen not long ago. We were talking..."

Fred looked up at me and studied my face. "Did you have another nightmare?" he asked.

I swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. I'm okay, though."

"Soph," Fred began, but I interrupted him with a shake of my head.

"Not now, Fred. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"But you promised me you'd-"

"I promised that I'd tell you when the nightmares were happened, but I couldn't promise I'd want to talk about them."

"I know, but Sophie-"

"It's Christmas," I said. "Can we just not do this today? Just this once?"

"Fine," Fred finally said. "I'll give you a pass today, but only because it's Christmas." He pushed himself to his feet and leaned in to kiss my forehead. "I'll see you in the morning, yeah?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"If you need to come into my and George's room..." Fred began. "I just mean that if you can't get back to sleep or if you have another nightmare..."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," I said. "But thank you."

Fred nodded and studied my face. "Okay."

"Merry Christmas, Fred." I leaned up to give him one last kiss before slipping out of his grasp and heading up the stairs to Ginny's room.