Another Weasley

✿ CHAPTER FOUR ✿

We walked out of the building and through the courtyard, Minerva still holding my hand, dragging me along. We walked down a few streets and into an alley, where no one and nothing but a stray cat moved.
"I'll explain later. Don't let go," Minerva said, and with a loud crack I felt a sharp tug on my naval.

The world began to spin like I was on a roller coaster, and as I was plunged into darkness, all I could register was the feeling of Minerva's hand in my own. When my feet finally felt ground I doubled over and the retching began, bile burning my throat as I emptied my stomach of last nights dinner.

"What on earth just happened?" I said, wide-eyed and aghast, the horrid taste of vomit in my mouth.
"That was called apparating, a skill used by many witches and wizards to travel anywhere at will," Minerva explained as I shakily regained my feet. "You'll get used to it." She added.

We walked up a small path to a large house, at least five stories high. The house looked like a wonky layered cake, each floor balancing like it could topple over at the slightest touch, or with the most gentle gust of wind.

The wonky building was surrounded by paddocks and fields, and way in the distance I could make out the faint image of a small town. Pine trees dotted randomly around the paddocks, lacing the air with the fresh smell of pine.

"Welcome to The Burrow." Minerva said with a look of fondness in her eyes. She knocked on the door, and a few moments passed before a pudgy little woman answered it. Her hair was frizzy and a faded shade of my own fiery red. Her eyes flicked from Minerva to me before she burst out in tears, sobbing as she grabbed me and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug. I hugged her back as tight as I could, breathing in her smell of rose-scented perfume and baking. Despite having no memory whatsoever of this woman or the way she smelt, her sweet, delicate fragrance seemed like one of the most familiar and comforting smells I could ever imagine

"I can't -hic- believe -hic- it's really you!" She
managed between sobs.
"Ruby, this is Molly, your mother." Minerva said.
"Arthur! Arthur come quickly!" Molly called, ducking her head inside the house. A taller, balding man with a receding hairline and the same greying red hair as his wife appeared in the doorway.
"Merlins beard." He whispered. His eyes glossed over and a single tear drop fell from his eye. He too pulled me into an incredibly firm hug, and so I hugged him back equally as tight. I wasn't sure if anyone could actually smell warm, but that was the best way to describe how my father smelt. Like smokey fireplaces and hot coffee and pine needles. Molly leant forward and planted a kiss on my forehead. She was blubbering uncontrollably now, tears running down her face uncontrollably.

"Get -hic- her -hic hic- inside! She'll -hic- want to -hic- meet -hic hic- the children!" She cried happily.

"Kids!" Arthur boomed cheerily up the stairs. "Come down here now!"

A chorus of footsteps on stairs filled my ears as eight people came bustling down, all stopping dead in their tracks when they saw the girl in their living room sitting on the couch. All but one of them had the same red hair, lanky frame and brown eyes as me.