Within You, Without You

The week went by relatively normally. Or rather, the normalcy that my life was falling into. I would go to classes, and hang out with fellow Gryffindors outside of class. Fred, George, and Lee mainly, but also some fifth years in my grade, along with the other Weasleys and their friends. I've made a few friends in Ravenclaw, and a couple in Slytherin and Hufflepuff as well. Still, I find myself able to get along more with my house than any others, and seeing how most of my time is spent with them that is a good thing.

It was a Thursday morning before classes, and I was sitting at breakfast in the Great Hall with Fred, George, Lee, and Angelina. I wasn't paying too much attention to the talk, and more focusing on getting food into my mouth and waking myself up. I had trouble falling asleep the night before and felt rather tired still. A fluttering of wings from above announced the arrival of the post, and I took a sip of my morning tea and continued eating. All of my friends were inside the castle and so unless I went and tried to buy something via post, I wasn't going to be getting any letters or anything anytime soon.

"What are you doing here, Errol?" I heard Fred said, and I turned to my right to look at him and what was happening. There was a big gray owl that just fell right in front of Fred, and it shook its head. He had a letter tied to his leg. "Give it here Errol, and then I'll give you some breakfast," Fred said to the owl, but the owl didn't even look at him and started to walk down to the table a bit.

And stopped right in front of me, with his leg holding the letter outstretched. I looked at Fred and George across from us, and they were looking at me confused. I took the letter off of his leg, and Errol decided to take his thank you from me by grabbing a piece of bacon off of my plate. The front of the letter had my whole name on it - Lucy Loretta Maude - in a handwriting I didn't recognize. Fred took the letter and brought it closer to him as I held it. "Oi, it's mum's handwriting, George." He turned to look at me, both of us still holding my letter. "Have you been writing in secret to my mum?"

I looked at him confused. "Why would I do that?"

He shrugged and let go of the letter. "Dunno. Just wondering. Why would my mum ("Our mum" George said impatiently) be writing to you?" I took the letter and put it in my pocket. "And why aren't you opening it now?"

"Because breakfast is almost over and I have to get to class. As to your first question, I haven't a clue but I guess we'll have to wait." I took one more sip of my tea. "I'll see you guys later, bye."

The truth was I wanted to open that letter. I wanted to tear it apart and see what Mrs. Weasley would have to say to me. And why. And how she knew I even existed. I was confused, and I wanted to know, and all the answers were held in that letter. It felt as heavy as a cannonball in my pocket with me not opening it, and just seemed to get heavier with every passing moment it went unopened. The whole day swirled by with not a moment's rest in which I felt I'd have enough time to open and read and fully digest what my friends' mother - a stranger, really - had to say to me that she needed to write to me.

Or was it just me being immature and being afraid of the unknown? I touched the letter in my pocket, and thought of other letters from the past. My parents got letters a lot, and sometimes they'd sit me on their lap and read them to me. Most were from friends back home, back in Britain. They showed me moving photographs their friends sent of their growing family and they let me sign my name at the bottom of the letter they'd reply with. Before they died, they were given a letter that made them distraught, but I was young and didn't need to be disturbed with this so they burnt it quick and kept it from me and within days they were dead.
After they died, the letters didn't stop. The letter I got from the mother of a friend that was supposed to be for my foster mother at the time that asked nicely if she could please keep me away from her beloved daughter for she was coming home with crazy stories and decided I was not good for the well being of her child. (That one made my stomach plummet; I have already had a friend's mother's letter, and it told me to go away. I don't know if I could take it this time). A letter from my teacher telling my foster family to perhaps look into more psychiatric care because I did in fact lose my natural parents and I seemed to spend more time with books rather than schoolmates which may just be a coping mechanism and the school guidance counselor has tried but maybe outside help could be just what I needed. A letter from my orphanage telling me I'd have to go back, the family I was with changed their mind and no, they didn't want to discuss anything with me so please could I just pack my things up and get in the taxi that they'd send for me by six that evening and leave without another word to them. A letter, well not really a letter more of a note, from a kid that I let my foolish self believe I had a crush on (the first and last, mind you) that told me to stay away from him, he didn't want to talk to me ever again, and please, please take my weirdness away from him. The letter from Dumbledore that changed my life, the beacon of light in that dark, dark, tunnel that reminded me that I was my mother's and father's daughter, that I was a witch, a real witch, and yes I was different but there was a place for me in the world; that it wasn't just some fool's dream like it was starting to feel like and there was a place that was just waiting for me. Where did Mrs. Weasley's letter fall in the spectrum? My stomach flipped uneasily.

I was walking down the hallway as I was thinking these thoughts and I had to stop suddenly to clutch onto the nearest wall and breathe deep. I have blocked my mind from so much of this for so long. I hated my past, I hated having a past entirely. I wanted to start off with a fresh slate 100%, not just in the fact that no one here knew me. I wanted my mind blank from all of this. Irrationally I thought how I could just do a quick memory spell upon myself, perhaps give way to not needing to live with my memories....

"No." I said aloud with finality, so that my mind would understand and listen. I would not cower from who I was, what I came from. I was a Gryffindor, and I would not go to some drastic measure to simply just rid myself of pain. It was a part of me. I held my head high, and continued walking to the Gryffindor Tower.

It seems so nonsensical that something as silly as a piece of paper was making me feel this much.

There was almost a half hour in time before dinner, since my class let out early. I stole away as quick as possible, hoping for none to see me, to my room, finding it, thankfully, completely deserted. Sitting on my bed, I took the envelope out of my pocket and flipped it over and over again in my hand. Finally, I tore it open, and there was a piece of parchment and some other pieces of paper within the envelope. I picked up the parchment and began to read.

"Dear Lucy,
I am incredibly sorry, my dear, that this is how I first contact you in this time of your life, but I felt it necessary. I make Ginny write home at least weekly, and when she told me of a fifth year that befriended Fred, then George, and soon even her and Ron, I asked the full name and was given yours. Lucy Maude. Lucy, I will start this off with saying how terribly sorry I am for the loss of your parents; you were young and they were too and they didn't deserve the end they were given. It was cruel and it wasn't fair, and I know that life most likely wasn't too fair to you.
I have been trying my hardest to keep my ears and eyes open for a little Lucy Maude to come piping up in Hogwarts, and I am happier than ever that you have finally made your way back home. I wish that I was able to help you with all of this, but I couldn't get the information from your muggle orphanage or any foster families you have been in and being that you were on a completely different continent and country, I had physically no way to help you. I am sorry for that, and I do hope that from here on out I can try and make up for that.
This must be weird to have gotten, and weird to be reading. Odds are if you have befriended Fred and George, they probably tried to open it before you and are right now writing a letter to me demanding what I said to you. I actually laugh at this thought, to think that all it took to get them to write to me more than the occasional check in, would be to write a letter to one of their friends. But I needed to write to you, to let you know that you are not alone here and that if you ever need, my house is always opened to you.
Your parents were good friends with me and my husband. Your mother was a Gryffindor, and in my year. We were close at Hogwarts, a group of us that were the best of friends and then when we went on with our lives, both my family and your family were ones that made sure to always stick together and be in touch. For the two years that you yourself lived in Britain, you were brought up side by side with my kids. We were neighbors. It makes me so incredibly happy, dear, to know that even after all of these years, the child of William Maude and Madison Benatellis and Arthur's and mine still found each other and felt connected. I cannot wait to meet you - to see the woman you are blossoming into - as soon as possible. I understand that most are staying over Christmas holiday for the festivities this year, but whenever a break comes around, Easter, Summer, any, you are welcome at my household, always. You have a place, a place that can feel like home. I hope to see you again in person soon; I remember the letters and pictures from your parents that they sent to me as you grew up across the ocean, and I still have them. I try to imagine what you could have grown up to become, but truly know that you must have become something that much better.
With love,
Molly Weasley"

I read the letter several times over. By the time I even moved a muscle, I knew that dinner was well underway. But I wasn't hungry for food. There was a hunger within me, but it was the hunger for the family love that I could read in Mrs. Weasley's words, the hunger for the life that I could have had. My mind started to betray me, and my thoughts flicked to a life I could have had. Growing up within the wizarding world, spending days playing with the Weasley family. There would probably be others in the town as well, I'd probably have a lot of friends. I wonder how I would have ended up.

I put the letter down and picked up the other paper in my hand. The first one I picked up made me gasp in surprise. There, right in front of me: evidence that she was telling the truth. It was a family portrait of two families. One was much larger, already, than the other. A family of just three stood in the middle: A woman with dark brown curly hair and a smile that could light up the world stood next to a man with light hair that was a bit shaggy, with laughing eyes. In the father's hands, a daughter of the two, but her attention was elsewhere. Surrounding them was a bunch of redheads. A homey sort of lovely woman stood with a picture perfect kind of man for a father, holding a child that could be no older than one in their hands, the kid looking like he was about to cry because he couldn't be on the ground with his brothers. There were five red headed children on the ground, the two oldest were standing there making funny faces at the camera. The next was right next to them, smiling for the camera, not wishing to ruin a picture. The last two, the youngest of the five on the ground, were running around the families, chasing each other and laughing.

Picking up the next one, I saw the redheaded woman and man holding the child of the other two parents. Me. The photo was from earlier, and I was just a baby. The two adults were laughing and playing a bit with me so I was laughing. The next photo showed me sitting on the ground, my eyes locked on the red head that was flying his toy broom around and around my head. His brother, and twin, stood right by with his own toy broom and looked just about ready to join him in circling around my head.

I set the photographs down. Wondering, wondering, wondering.........
I went into the trunk at the edge of my bed and threw it open. Searching inside, I finally found what I was looking for. I took it and sat on my bed with it in my hands. It was a photo album I took from my parent's house before I had to leave. Flipping through, there were pictures of my parents growing up at Hogwarts, of them and their friends (I spotted Molly and Arthur with my parents quick), saw the transformation of them going from friends to dating. And there, farther back, photographs of their wedding.

"Lucy?" I heard someone, the voice seemed far away, call out to me.

I looked up and suddenly remembered where I was, and the world around me came back again. Hermione was in front of me, looking a bit nervous. I shook my head and smiled at her. "Sorry. Just lost in my head for a bit. What's going on?"

"A couple of us were worried about you because you weren't at dinner. Fred and George wanted me to come up here and make sure that you were okay because they hadn't seen you since breakfast." She took a step closer. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I'm great. I-," I looked down at the letter and photo album nearby. "I just was looking at old photos of my parents. I'll come down now. Thanks, Hermione." I gathered the letter and the photo album and made my way down the staircase, Hermione coming along with me.

"The twins went down to the kitchens to grab you some food since you weren't at dinner," Hermione informed me.

"How nice of them," I said, trying to keep the mocking tone out of my voice. More like they were trying to coax me into showing me the letter their mum sent me. Not that they had to do that. I had every intention of showing them the letter, but if they wanted to try and coax me with food, coax away.

I sat down on the couch and I felt my hands throb when I looked at the fire place. Madam Pomfrey said that they were healing but I haven't seen any improvement since my fingers returned to normal.

Hermione sat next to me. "So you said you were able to catch up with what you missed out for on four years in the span of this summer?" Hermione asked lightly.

I turned to her and saw that her eyes were bright with excitement. I smiled. Hermione was the bookworm and brains of this entire house, and the brightest witch of our age. "Well, it wasn't a complete catch up, you know? I knew that I was a witch, having time, no matter how short, with my family. I was only at my oldest with them six, so there wasn't any real 'training' or anything, but they'd give me toy broomsticks and toy wands and I was known to on occasion to steal their wands and try a spell I read about in their books. And when I was in foster homes I had all my family's books with me and spent most of my time reading them. I didn't have a wand, but if I'd try them out at times if I was alone. I can do wordless and wandless spells pretty well just because that was all I was ever able to do, and really my spellwork here was expanding my knowledge and learning to direct it with my wand."

She smiled and we talked for a bit until she went up to her dormitory to get some reading done. I promised her that I'd allow her to look at my parents' books sometime soon. Within minutes after she left, the portrait opened and Fred and George came through with a plateful of food each. We all smiled at each other. "Where's Lee?" I asked.

"He had detention with Snape," George said and they came and sat on either side of me and placed the plates on my lap. The letter and the photo album were on the table and they didn't even see it.

"And we come with food for you since you decided to not have dinner with us," Fred added.

I took a bite of the food and smiled at the fact it was still warm. "And in return you want to know what your mother wrote to me about."

"We take offense that you think we're being nice just for a gain of some sort," George said, mocking hurt.

"But if you wish to show us, we won't complain," Fred told me, smiling.

I laughed. "I was going to let you two know regardless, but thanks for going the extra mile with the food." I picked up the letter and George snatched it from my hand before Fred could. They took their turns reading it while I was eating.

"So our mother, knew your parents? And you?" George asked finally after both of them read the letter.

"Both of your parents did. And we were neighbors for a bit. Your mum sent me these photographs with the letter," I handed them the photos, "and these were in a family photo album that I have from my old home."

They looked through it, laughing. I finished my food and put it down and looked at the pictures to laugh at them with them.

"We were neighbors, Lucy! Think of all the years we missed out on because you had to move!" Fred said. I smiled and a million thoughts ran through my head. What if my family didn't have to move. What if my parents lived. What if I was neighbors of the Weasleys and we grew up with each other.

I pushed them out of my head, not wanting to get all sappy. "Well, we have the rest of our lives to make up for it."

Fred and George smiled, and then started laughing. "You emotional sod!" Fred exclaimed and reached out for me. He held me so that my back was against his chest, and locked my arms up near my head with his arms. "Hey!" I screamed out and tried to twist out, but to no use. The two of them exchanged a look and then George was on me, tickling me. The three of us were laughing unbearably loud and I was thrashing, trying to get loose. Finally George stopped and I stopped moving. "Okay okay fine, no more sappy thoughts I get it okay. Can you let go of me now?"

"Not yet. Need to make sure you're fully done with it, Lucy 'emotional sod' Maude," Fred said, not releasing me.

"Hey, Creevey. Get over here," George said to a younger student, and I saw a blonde small kid with a camera come over to us. "We have a photo album to fill up with our memories. You are in charge of taking the pictures. Ya?"

I smiled. "I'll pay for the film and work," I told him, laughing.

"Start now, Creevey," Fred said, and George started tickling me again. "Dammit you ginger twins!" I yelled and we were all laughing. The flash went off a couple of times and then they told the Creevey kid to go away.

We had all the time in the world.