My Beautiful Blackbird.
Welcome Home
April 1st, 1989, the Burrow.
“Happy birthday dears!” A late eighties Molly chimed, her hair almost as big as her heart. She placed a kiss on each of our heads, ignoring Fred and George’s groans.
“Mum, please, that’s bloody embarrassing.” Fred complained. She chuckled, but said nothing. I was sitting in between Fred and George at the dining table, my heart pounding with excitement; from the look on their faces, I’d say the twins were pretty excited too.
“I’ve been working on your cakes all day, just let me get them. Arthur!”
A guilty-looking Arthur Weasley came out of the kitchen, a finger in his mouth as he tried to remove the blue frosting from it. Molly sighed.
“Arthur, you didn’t.”
He chuckled a bit and, with a flick of his wand, three cakes flew through the air towards the dining room table, landing in front of us with a soft thud. It was George’s cake he had stolen icing from, and George looked more than disappointed.
“Alright everyone, please come to the dining room, it’s time for cake!”
Soon the party had moved to the dining room, which consisted of friends our own age and their parents, whom were friends with Arthur and Molly.
With a flick of Molly’s wand, eleven birthday candles each appeared on the cakes, instantly lighting themselves. She began singing, and so did everyone else.
“Happy birthday to you,” They sang, smiles on everyone’s faces. But none were as large as the three of ours as we exchanged glances at one another, excited. But it wasn’t the cake or presents we were excited about; we were excited for our Hogwarts acceptance letters.
“Happy birthday dear Fred, George, and Juliette, Happy birthday to you.” Everyone laughed at the struggle they had fitting all our names in the song, and we did too. That’s when it happened.
Three tawny barn owls flew in through the large open window, dropping each of the envelopes on the cakes in front of us before flying out quickly. We looked at one another before hastily jumping forward, picking the letters off of the cakes. We opened them quickly as Molly and Arthur laughed, looking down on the three of us like the proudest and happiest parents in the world. Maybe they were. After we had read our letters we looked up at everyone, smiles on every single face. We looked at one another and the two of them brought me into a tight group hug, everyone laughing and cheering as we did so.
The world was different back then. Happier, lighter, and more carefree than it would be again for quite some time.
Present day, September 1st, 1994, Platform 9¾
“Yes mum, I promise we’ll behave.” George was lying through his teeth and Molly knew it; she knew we would never behave.
“Yes, well, it’s your last year, so I would certainly hope so.” She stated. The train’s whistle blew and she hurried her goodbye.
“Off you go dears, and please, do try to be good. I’d hate to see another letter from Hogwarts about you harassing Severus.”
She kissed each of our foreheads before sending us off, yelling goodbye to us as we walked away.
“Blimey, she never learns, does she?” Fred said as we walked. “We’ll never behave.”
George and I laughed at this as we boarded the train, pushing past multiple groups on our search for an empty compartment. We found one at the end of the train and entered it, me sitting beside George as Fred sat across from us. Draco Malfoy soon passed our compartment and glared at me as he did so, obviously displeased to see that I was hanging around the Weasley twins. I rolled my eyes.
“Slimy little git.” Fred muttered.
“Tell me about it, I’m related to him.”
“Sucks to be you.” They said together. I laughed as I hit George playfully.
“Cut it out, it’s not like I chose to be related to him.”
“Yes, well, we’re just glad it’s not us.”
On the ride to Hogwarts we discussed many things, from the Irish Quidditch team to Voldemort to the amount of times Snape has washed his hair in his lifetime. We discussed the pranks we would be pulling that year and how we would someday open our own joke shop. We were at Hogwarts in no time, because time always seemed to fly with Fred and George.
We stepped off the train and onto the platform, saying hello to Hagrid as we did so. I looked into the distance at the wonderful lit up castle, the one that I would always call home. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In my daze, I tripped over someone’s luggage that was sitting on the platform, throwing me off balance. George grabbed my arm and kept me from falling.
“Easy there, Blackbird.”
I smiled at the use of my nickname; ‘Blackbird’ was what the twins had started calling me about a year prior, when we discovered that my Patronus was a blackbird, of course. Apparently they liked the sound of that, because it’s what they’d been calling me for the past year. I loved it.
As we climbed into the carriages that would take us to the castle, Draco glared at me once again, climbing into another carriage. I glared in return.
“What are you looking at, Draco? Didn’t mummy teach you it wasn’t polite to stare?”
He yelled some kind of profanity at me and I ignored him, sitting back in the seat as the carriage began moving.
Slimy little git.
“Happy birthday dears!” A late eighties Molly chimed, her hair almost as big as her heart. She placed a kiss on each of our heads, ignoring Fred and George’s groans.
“Mum, please, that’s bloody embarrassing.” Fred complained. She chuckled, but said nothing. I was sitting in between Fred and George at the dining table, my heart pounding with excitement; from the look on their faces, I’d say the twins were pretty excited too.
“I’ve been working on your cakes all day, just let me get them. Arthur!”
A guilty-looking Arthur Weasley came out of the kitchen, a finger in his mouth as he tried to remove the blue frosting from it. Molly sighed.
“Arthur, you didn’t.”
He chuckled a bit and, with a flick of his wand, three cakes flew through the air towards the dining room table, landing in front of us with a soft thud. It was George’s cake he had stolen icing from, and George looked more than disappointed.
“Alright everyone, please come to the dining room, it’s time for cake!”
Soon the party had moved to the dining room, which consisted of friends our own age and their parents, whom were friends with Arthur and Molly.
With a flick of Molly’s wand, eleven birthday candles each appeared on the cakes, instantly lighting themselves. She began singing, and so did everyone else.
“Happy birthday to you,” They sang, smiles on everyone’s faces. But none were as large as the three of ours as we exchanged glances at one another, excited. But it wasn’t the cake or presents we were excited about; we were excited for our Hogwarts acceptance letters.
“Happy birthday dear Fred, George, and Juliette, Happy birthday to you.” Everyone laughed at the struggle they had fitting all our names in the song, and we did too. That’s when it happened.
Three tawny barn owls flew in through the large open window, dropping each of the envelopes on the cakes in front of us before flying out quickly. We looked at one another before hastily jumping forward, picking the letters off of the cakes. We opened them quickly as Molly and Arthur laughed, looking down on the three of us like the proudest and happiest parents in the world. Maybe they were. After we had read our letters we looked up at everyone, smiles on every single face. We looked at one another and the two of them brought me into a tight group hug, everyone laughing and cheering as we did so.
The world was different back then. Happier, lighter, and more carefree than it would be again for quite some time.
Present day, September 1st, 1994, Platform 9¾
“Yes mum, I promise we’ll behave.” George was lying through his teeth and Molly knew it; she knew we would never behave.
“Yes, well, it’s your last year, so I would certainly hope so.” She stated. The train’s whistle blew and she hurried her goodbye.
“Off you go dears, and please, do try to be good. I’d hate to see another letter from Hogwarts about you harassing Severus.”
She kissed each of our foreheads before sending us off, yelling goodbye to us as we walked away.
“Blimey, she never learns, does she?” Fred said as we walked. “We’ll never behave.”
George and I laughed at this as we boarded the train, pushing past multiple groups on our search for an empty compartment. We found one at the end of the train and entered it, me sitting beside George as Fred sat across from us. Draco Malfoy soon passed our compartment and glared at me as he did so, obviously displeased to see that I was hanging around the Weasley twins. I rolled my eyes.
“Slimy little git.” Fred muttered.
“Tell me about it, I’m related to him.”
“Sucks to be you.” They said together. I laughed as I hit George playfully.
“Cut it out, it’s not like I chose to be related to him.”
“Yes, well, we’re just glad it’s not us.”
On the ride to Hogwarts we discussed many things, from the Irish Quidditch team to Voldemort to the amount of times Snape has washed his hair in his lifetime. We discussed the pranks we would be pulling that year and how we would someday open our own joke shop. We were at Hogwarts in no time, because time always seemed to fly with Fred and George.
We stepped off the train and onto the platform, saying hello to Hagrid as we did so. I looked into the distance at the wonderful lit up castle, the one that I would always call home. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In my daze, I tripped over someone’s luggage that was sitting on the platform, throwing me off balance. George grabbed my arm and kept me from falling.
“Easy there, Blackbird.”
I smiled at the use of my nickname; ‘Blackbird’ was what the twins had started calling me about a year prior, when we discovered that my Patronus was a blackbird, of course. Apparently they liked the sound of that, because it’s what they’d been calling me for the past year. I loved it.
As we climbed into the carriages that would take us to the castle, Draco glared at me once again, climbing into another carriage. I glared in return.
“What are you looking at, Draco? Didn’t mummy teach you it wasn’t polite to stare?”
He yelled some kind of profanity at me and I ignored him, sitting back in the seat as the carriage began moving.
Slimy little git.