Chapter 25 - by xXMade2LoveXx

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** Rae's POV **

"Ron said she seems fine, just moody," Fred says, stepping into the room. I'm sitting on his bed, leaning agains tthe wall while playing cards.

"I told you so," I say, picking up a card and putting it in my hand, "she's just like this. Something happens and she cries."

"Are you angry at her?" George asks. I shake my head.

"I'm just tired," I sigh, "at home everything is always about her. After Remus told me I was adopted I just wanted them to understand how I felt, but because Elena was fine with it, he assumed I was too. I know he cares about me, but he always treated me like an extension of her. Her favourite food was spaghetti, so he assumed it was mine too."

I drop my cards and cover my face. My heart is pounding in my chest and I feel panicked. George rubs my back comfortingly. I feel tears in my eyes and blink them away angrily.

"I'm sorry," I say, "I'm just tired of being Elena's sister. I want to be me."

Fred exchanges a glance with George.

"We've noticed you've been more confident since you started spending less time with her," he says, "you didn't used to be able to talk to George without blushing."

I blush and shot a smile at George.

"I guess I felt like I couldn't make friends unless I was with her," I shrug, "and seeing you guys... I mean, you're always together, you're always happy."

"Because we're so similar," George says, "you and Elena are different, and that's cool. It's okay to be apart from her. In fact, it might make it easier to get along."

There's a knock on the door and I wipe my eyes quickly as Mrs Weasley walks in with a tray of hot chocolates.

"Bed time soon," she says, handing us each a mug, "Santa Claus won't come if you're awake."

She winks and steps outside again. I huddle between the twins and we stare out the window at the swirling snow while we sip our drinks.

"So, are you over her, Fred?" I ask. He sighs and I feel him shrug.

"Let's just enjoy the holidays and worry about school drama when we get back there," he says.

***          ***          ***

I wake up early on Christmas morning and see a pink glow coming in the window. I stretch and roll out of bed, being careful not to wake the twins. I walk downstairs as quietly as I can. At the back door I pull on a pair of wellies and step out into the snow. It's cold and I cross my arms over my chest as I walk. I sit on the garden wall facing away from the house, looking out over the white fields. I look down at my knees. Small flakes are falling and settling on them for a second before melting away.

I sigh, seeing my breath in front of me. I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach, something that's been there for five years, but got even bigger this year. A feeling of emptiness, loss and fear. There's something about finding out the family you thought you had isn't really your family that changes you. All of a sudden a lot of things make sense, but at the same time, everything seems wrong. I'd always thought the reason I was so different from Remus and Elena was because I was like our mother, but from what Remus has told me I'm just like my father. Sometimes I just want to run until all the pain is gone, I just feel so lost.

I hear footsteps behind me and then soft hands wrap a cloak around my shoulders. I look to my right and see Mrs Weasley looking out at the fields. I watch her for a long time, studying the wrinkles around her eyes, the smile lines. After a length she turns and looks at me with a gentle smile.

"It's difficult, losing a parent," she says, "the war took many people. Your mother and, in a way, your father included. It's okay for your to mourn that loss."

I feel tears trickle down my face and wipe them away. Mrs Weasley pulls me into a hug and holds me close, rocking me gently. A sob bubbles up out of me and soon I'm crying harder than I've ever cried before. All of the pain seems to be pushing itself out of me and falling in hot, salty droplets down my face. Mrs Weasley holds me until my sobbing stops and I've calmed down. She wipes my face gently and smiles at me.

"See?" she says, "doesn't that feel better already?"

"It does," I nod, smiling and wiping away a last tear, "thank you."

"You're welcome, dear," she says, "now, come in out of the cold. The boys will be up soon!"

I follow her into the house. It's lovely and warm and smells of pancakes and chocolate. We go into the living room and I sit down between the twins. They look at their mother who nods, and then everyone begins tearing into their presents. I got a small note book from Remus and my very own Weasley jumper- "Looks like you got one after all!" -along with a box of home made fudge. I pull on my jumper, a white knit with blue details and follow the family into the kitchen for breakfast.

***          ***          ***

"How do you feel about going back to school?" George asks as we lie in bed on the last night of the holidays. I'm full, warm and utterly relaxed, lying cuddled in my small bed that Mrs Weasley has promised will always be open to me.

"I think it'll be fine," I mumble, my eyes half open.

"Not worried about seeing Professor Lupin and Elena?"

"Bit. Not really."

"M'kay."

I turn over in my bed to look at the twins. In the dark they seem nothing more than lumps. I sigh to myself. They have no idea how lucky they are to have grown up with such wonderful parents. Mrs Weasley and I had talked a few times after Christmas. I'd told her how lost and alone I felt. How I'd always felt that Remus put Elena first. How I worried I'd never feel like I really belonged. She'd told me that sometimes we have to find our place in the world and that family can be found in all sorts of places. She encouraged me to work on feeling confident in myself so that maybe one day I could reconcile properly with Remus and Elena. I even told her about the kiss with Fred.

As I fell asleep I imagined what it would have been like if my father hadn't have been a criminal. I pictured him, not as the deranged prisoner I'd seen in the pictures, but as the young man I'd seen photos of. The man with the long hair and smile that never seemed to give everything away. I pictured him with the woman who would have been my mother. We would have been so happy together. I wonder if it would have mattered then if I'd known she didn't give birth to me. Would they have even told me? But they would have wanted me. They wanted me so desperately that they turned to their best friends for help. I wonder what it would be like now to be wanted and loved so desperately. Maybe one day I'll find out.

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