Amaranth (Harry Potter Fan Fiction)

Chapter 3: Potters, Weasleys and Quidditch

Chapter Three: Potters, Weasleys and Quidditch:

“Welcome,” says Hermione, “To the Burrow.”

I look in awe at the beautiful house. Although it is rather crooked, it looks stable. The garden looks beautiful with lots of new colors and plants. Attached to the side of the house is a pig pen with pigs that are hungrily devouring food out of a trough. There is a second house, painted in blue and white with roses and lilies in the window sills, that stands next to the Burrow.

Suddenly a woman bursts out of the Burrow. She has graying red hair that looks a lot like Ginny and Ron's hair. I assume that she is their mother and the “Mrs. Weasley” that Hermione was talking about.

She walks towards a tree and yells up into it, “James Potter you come down here right now. Don’t try and hide, I know you’re in there,” she screams, then she turns towards us as a teenage boy starts climbing down, “Oh, hello, dear. I’m Mrs. Weasley and you must be the Julia, Hermione has told us about. Welcome to the Burrow. Don’t worry about James; he’s always up to trouble.”

I instantly take a liking to Mrs. Weasley. Her personality and appearance is very similar to that of my grandmother and I can’t help but remembering the different things I used to do with my grandmother; going to the park, taking the dog for walks, baking cookies, but of course I can’t do those things anymore, since my grandmother died last year. We had always been very close and even though it was a year ago, memories of her still make my cry. I don’t want to cry, but even now I can feel the tears threatening to fall out of my eyes, making my eyesight blurry.

“What is it dear?” Mrs. Weasley asks me, walking towards us, her arms held out in a motherly way.

“You r-remind me of my grandmother,” I say, starting to cry, “She died a year ago.”

Mrs. Weasley engulfs me in a very warm and comfortable hug and strokes my hair, “There, there, dear. It's all right. No need to cry. You're here at the Burrow now, and the Burrow is a place of happiness. Hermione was right, you are like Rosie, her grandmother, Hermione’s mother, died last winter and she’s still upset. Shh...There's a dear. You will always be welcome here dear and you can always talk to me if you are upset.”

I sniff and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. Hermione hugs me, then grabs my hand and says, “Let's go see the kids. I think they’re playing Quidditch.”

“I’m sorry about your mother.” I say as we walk down a long path.

“It was sad, I didn’t see much of her, being at Hogwarts and then-“

Hermione stops abruptly and falls silent.

“And then- what?” I ask, trying not to be rude, but very curious.

“There was a war.”

“A war?”

“But you’re wizards! You have magic, how can you get into a war?”

“Let’s just say that some wizards don’t use magic to the benefit of others, rather for the greater good of only them,” Hermione says and I understand that our discussion is over. It must have been a rather terrible event.

We walk silently along the path until we arrive at a large flat dirt filled expanse. There are three hoops on each side and a small set of bleachers. Many of the players and people in the bleachers have red hair that shines in the sun. I’m beginning to think that it’s a sign of a Weasley, since all of them seem to have that trait! We walk over towards the only bleacher that has people in it.

“Hi everyone!” says Hermione.

They respond with a variety of “Hi Aunt Hermione!” “Hi Mum!” and “Hi Hermione!”