Nearly Five Years Later
“BELINDA EVELYN WEASLEY! You get down from that roof this instant!”
“Oh damn.” Belinda muttered under her breath.
“I HEARD THAT!”
The little witch smiled apologetically over her shoulder down towards her mother. Of course, Molly Weasley had gotten quite used to her daughter flashing her dimples at her whenever she tried to weasel her way out of trouble. Belinda wasn’t a sweet little six-year old that resembled a baby doll anymore- her hair was mussed from the wind and sleep, no longer pulled back into braids with the little ringlets pulled to frame her face that her mum so adored. And the last time Molly suggested Belinda wear a dress, by the end of the family reunion, Belinda had ripped the skirt, bodice to knee chasing the twins up their Aunt’s tree for taking her cocoa. (Which had also left a brown stain that smelt strongly of the peppermint mice that she had melted into her mug.)
“Er- I’ll be just a moment!” Belinda called, but just then a rickety window flew open a meter or so below her.
“Belinda- Merlin’s beard!” Arthur Weasley had poked his head out of his and his wife’s bedroom window.
“Hullo, lovely mornin’ isn’ it?” Belinda asked casually. Her father simply sighed.
“Come here-“ Arthur held his hand out to Belinda, “I’m starting to suspect that you enjoy getting a rise out of your mother.” He said after she took his hand. Molly Weasley was still spouting off threats to her backside, as her husband waved his wand with his free hand at his daughter to make her weightless and pulled her back into the house.
“I don’t enjoy it.” Belinda huffed once her bare feet hit the cold wooden flooring, “But sometimes it's a necessary-”
“BELINDA GET DOWN HERE!”
“She’s rather quick isn’t she?” Belinda's cool tone was betrayed by her quickly pulling on her house shoes, and rushing out of the bedroom door, down the picture frame lined hall, where her brothers and sister within the frames urged her to a run when the Weasley Matriarch hollered again.
“What on earth were you thinking?!” Molly Weasley asked.
“Well I-”
“NO! I don’t want to hear it!” Belinda’s mother pulled her wand from the waistband of her apron and jabbed in the direction of a stack of dishes. They clinked angrily before flying past Belinda to set the table with a clatter.
“But-” Molly’s normally warm brown eyes looked more like the coals settled in the fireplace in the Burrow’s den.
“Ronald! Call everyone for breakfast.” Molly Weasley was a master of tone, “Belinda- If I catch you on that roof one more time I will-”
“But the bird-”
“What bird?” Molly Weasley crossed her arms, letting the platters of food serve themselves one by one, as the rest of the Weasley’s thundered down the staircase.
“Her mother never came back and I didn't want it to…” Belinda muttered quietly and wiped her hands anxiously on the front of her jeans.
“A bird?” Arthur Weasley asked as he came from around the corner separating the den from the kitchen.
“That’s what she said.” Molly told her husband. The redheaded Weasleys trickled in, eyeing the black sheep of the family- well actually she was a brunette. But she stuck out like a sore thumb in the Weasley pack. Fred and George, her older brothers took turns mouthing something at Ronald who shrugged and shook his head.
“She decided to play on the roof again.” Percy said, puffing out his chest in his usual manner.
“Traitor.” Belinda muttered under her breath, and received a clap on the back of the head. Not enough to really hurt but she still flinched and pouted at her father who had already seated himself at the head at the table.
“We do not call eachother names in this house! It's difficult enough to get all of you to get along-” Molly Weasley was bustling around the table, waving her wand for utensils to place themselves beside each Weasley’s place setting.
“Percy started it.” Belinda said stubbornly.
“I DON'T CARE WHO STARTED IT.” A stray fork clattered against the platter of scones.
“Now. Molly dear, she had a reason for going up on the roof.” Arthur adjusted his glasses to look at Belinda. “Bevie?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Belinda said crossly and sat at the table between Ron and Ginny. Their parents exchanged looks, and Molly Weasley took a deep breath before picking the fork up by hand and putting it beside her plate.
“The bird, dear. What’s happened to the bird?” Molly asked in a softer tone. It still took Belinda a moment to answer.
“It's all alone up there.” Belinda didn’t look up from picking at the sausages in front of her.
“It's a bird, isn’t that normal?” Ron asked. Belinda jabbed him in the side.
“The mother bird flew away two days ago and hasn’t come back… I couldn’t reach it from my window so I-”
“So you decided to go galavanting on the roof?” Molly asked harshly.
“I didn’t think you would want to help.”
“Why on Earth would you think that dear?” Arthur asked, lowering his spoon.
“Mum doesn’t like them. The black birds.”
“I- They’re bad luck Bevie,” Molly sat next to her husband.
“They’re just the same as an owl. Just as smart too.” Belinda pushed her plate away from her, and the twins eyed it.
“Alright,” Arthur Weasley waved his wand and a silver wrapper covered his plate, “Let’s go.”
“Arthur- you aren’t thinking of-?”
“She shouldn’t have gone out on the roof, but we can’t just leave it out there? Can we?” Arthur looked at his daughter expectantly.
“Really?”
“You’ll be responsible for it- I don’t want to hear that your Mother is cleaning up after it.”
After breakfast, the Weasley children- save for Percy who was watching from a safe distance with his mother- were craning their necks to watch as their father and Belinda worked together to build a self-warming cage from an old rusted one with a tiny woolen birds nest in the floor of the cage. The little raven chick was tucked into Belinda’s jumper and it gave a little squawk whenever she gave it a reassuring pat.
“Are you sure it's a raven?” Molly asked her husband.
“It looks like a little black chick.” Ginny said cautiously reaching out a single finger to stroke its downy feathers.
“It’s mum was the biggest bird I’d ever seen. It has to be a raven.” Belinda said. The little bird nuzzled against Ginny’s finger.
“Now- it'll need, “ Arthur Weasley adjusted his glasses before peering down at an open book on the den’s coffee table; ‘Care for Mundane-Magical Creatures’, “raw dragon liver, three times an hour.”
“I can do that!” Belinda reassured her father.
“Belinda, you’ll be heading off for Hogwarts in the fall-” Mum wrung her apron in her hands.
“I can take it with me can’t I? It’s not an owl but-” Belinda looked at the twins and Percy who had recently come back from Hogwarts for the summer.
“I mean, some of the Slytherin’s have snakes. And I reckon Lee is bringing a tarantula next year.” Fred Said.
“And Percy has his rat, doesn’t he?” George said with an accusatory brow raised.
“Rats are inherently useful for Transfiguration.” Percy turned his nose up and stuffed his hand into his robes pockets.
“I’m sure there’s somethin’ you can turn that bird into.” Fred said and Arthur nodded.
“I’m sure it's fine dear. “ Dad said, giving the cage one final wack with the handle of a screwdriver.
“No fair! I want a pet too.”
“It's not a pet Ginny, it's a familiar.” Belinda said proudly. “And her name is Morrigan.”
“That’s a mouthful.” George said.
“Are you sure that fits her?” Percy asked, as he was the one who had read the story of the Great Witch Morrigan to Belinda when she was younger. Belinda took Morrigan in her hands to study the little ball of fluffy feathers.
“It will one day.”
On June 25th, 1991, Belinda and Ronald Weasley received their Hogwarts letters.
“Oh, you’ve all grown up so fast.” Molly Weasley said with a giant sniffle.
“Mum- gerroff!” Ron shook off his mum who instead clung more tightly to Belinda.
“Mum, it’s alright- we’ll still be ‘round to bug you loads.” Belinda pat her mum’s arm.
“I know but-” A timer interrupted Mrs. Weasley’s cries, “Oh for Merlin’s sake.” It had been driving everyone in the Burrow up the wall, a timer that was enchanted to go off every twenty minutes.
“Sorry mum- I have to feed Morrigan.” Belinda casually broke free from Molly’s grip.
“I’m sure she doesn’t need to be hand fed so often anymore. We’re going through so much dragon liver- its…” But Molly’s voice trailed off as Belinda made her way upstairs. Morrigan was getting stronger everyday, and under the care of Errol- the Weasley family owl- she was starting to learn how to fly and feed herself. But Belinda enjoyed the ritual, even if it was becoming unnecessary.
“Morrigan? Are you hungry?” But the usual chirps did not greet her. “Errol?” Errol had apparently gone out as well. No, Belinda’s father had sent Errol with the letter to confirm her enrollment to Hogwarts. She opened the cracked window cautiously, in case Morrigan had slipped out onto the roof again for some fresh air.
“Prrr… Squawk!”
Belinda looked down in horror at the weak call of Morrigan.
“Bevie! What's the matter?” Ginny asked as Belinda skipped the last few stairs that Ginny was blocking, choosing to jump the handrail and opening the kitchen’s backdoor. Mum had disappeared somewhere and Dad had gone to work so only Ginny followed her out to the garden.
“Morrigan!” Belinda called out to her and she responded with a low purr.
“Merlin! I- I’ll go get mum.” Ginny ran back inside after she saw a black wing bent in an unnatural direction, slick with crimson. Belinda ignored the blood, and stroked Morrigan’s beak. Morrigan’s beak had only started turning black from pink.
“You were trying to fly?” Morrigan chirped weakly, “It's okay, if I had wings, I wouldn’t want to be stuck in a cage all day either. It's okay.” Belinda wasn’t sure who she was trying to comfort.
“Bevie - where-? Oh dear, the poor thing.” Molly Weasley had come to the rescue, with a heavy book tucked under her arm. “I’ll find the right charm to fix that wing right up-”
“She’s in a lot of pain- I should have checked on her sooner-” Belinda had one hand on Morrigan, and the other was in a claw digging into her shoulder. It was a familiar pain, like the burning in the back of her throat as she desperately fought back tears.
“Belinda, I’m going to heal her. Take a deep breath.” Mum had always spent extra care when Belinda started to get emotional. “Ginny- go inside.”
“But Mum, is she going-?”
“Now!” Molly Weasley fixed her youngest with a steely glare.
“Fine…” Ginny retreated to the open kitchen door, where an audience had begun to grow.
“Belinda-” Molly has already started to flip through the pages of the Mundane-Magical Creatures book, “You’re going to hurt- Merlin…” She had only looked up for a moment to pull Belinda’s hand away from her shoulder. Somehow her manicured nails had cut into her shoulder. Shallow crescent cuts slowly beaded up with blood.
“Squawk…” Morrigan broke the silence, and Belinda dismissed her mother’s wand to stroke Morrigan’s feathers with both hands.
“It’s okay. Mum’s gonna fix you. Errol will teach you how to fly properly when you’re better.”
“Belinda, go inside.”
“Morrigan was my responsibility! You can’t- you… you can’t…” Belinda trailed off as wildflowers curled around her bloody fingertips. It was more than she could take. A crashing wave of something that she had only ever felt once but couldn’t remember when, washed over her.
Her hands buzzed and the rest of the world fell away for a moment- leaving only the feel of pain being replaced by a warm light that smelt like sunshine and melting snow.
“I will care for her-” Molly was cut off by a sharp crunching noise, followed by a low purring. Morrigan’s wing was back in place, still slick with blood, but now stretched out as Morrigan examined it herself.
“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Belinda cut herself off, “Did I do that?”
“Er… yes. That happens sometimes, Accidental magic.”
Belinda Evelyn Weasley had never performed accidental magic before. It had worried her when her parents laughed with other parents of magical children about teddy bears getting up and walking by themselves (or teddy bears turning into giant spiders) or the curtains setting on fire during a particularly bad tantrum.
But her Dad had ‘convinced’ her that since she hardly ever let her emotions get the better of her, she was less likely to perform accidental magic.
Belinda personally thought that was a load of rubbish, but Morrigan was better thanks to her, and she had proof that she was indeed a witch. The tiny wildflowers that she left inside a worn outdated charms book left behind by Charlie, was a reminder that even though she wasn’t really a Weasley, she did belong to the Magical world. Her mum had ripped out the rest of the flowers to Belinda’s dismay- saying that they could overtake the rest of the garden.
Which again, Belinda thought was rubbish. Since Mum hardly cared about the state of her garden as long as her potions ingredients grew well. Though Belinda and Percy both admitted that the flowers were a kind they had never seen before- and were growing at an alarming rate.
“Belinda! Ronald!” Mum called. “Are you coming with me or not?”
“Yes!” Belinda hurriedly tucked Morrigan into a makeshift sling she had made from one of Charlie’s old Gryffindor scarves.
“Oh for Merlin’s sake, do you have to bring that ruddy bird?”
“She hasn’t recovered fully yet. And besides, maybe the lady at the Magical Creatures shop can take a look at her.” Belinda told her mother, who looked as if she were resisting the urge to roll her eyes at her daughter.
“Is Morrigan coming with us?” Arthur asked as he appeared from around the corner with Ron.
“Ronald! What’s happened to your face?”
“Erm…” Ron sneezed violently before he looked up at their father.
“It was nothing Molly, I’ve already reprimanded the…” Arthur Weasley looked helplessly as his wife stalked off towards the garden, shouting about how the twins would kill someone one day.
“I dunno Ron, I think it suits you.” Belinda pressed her lips together to hold in a sinister snicker. Ron’s face had gone a rather violent shade of purple under the large splotches of orange.
“Shut it. At least I’m not carrying around an ugly bird.” Ron snapped and Belinda covered either side of Morrigan’s head.
“She can hear you, you know.”
“It doesn’t have ears.”
“Birds have ears Ronald.” Belinda looked at Ron incredulously, and Ron looked to their father to corroborate the tall tale.
“Er… yes Ron, birds do in fact have ears.”
“It’s alright dad, all the rest of us are rather keen, seven out of eight is pretty good marks.”
“Belinda. Be nice to your brother, your mother is already on-” A loud bang shook the house and Arthur Weasley sighed heavily before heading towards the garden. Ron jabbed her in the side once the bell on the backdoor jingled.
“I’m not stupid, y’know.” He fixed me with a haughty glare.
“I never said you were stupid. I merely implied it.” Belinda smiled wickedly when Ron crossed his arms over his chest. She sighed heavily as an uncomfortable silence fell. If Ron was left to stew he would surely ruin the outing for Mum. “I know you aren’t stupid Ron.”
“I’m sick of being the butt of everybody’s joke.”
This wasn’t surprising to Belinda, she did like to tease her younger brother, and so did the rest of her siblings. She grabbed a large doily off of the end table beside the largest and patchiest couch.
“Come here.” Belinda shook her head as she started wiping the spots off his face, “You’re in luck Ronald, it's only pollen.”
“Luck.”
“Stop pouting- mum’ll have their heads for it.”
“Why don’t they ever mess with you?”
“You’re more fun to mess with, I suspect.” Belinda wiped the last bit off, and examined the probably stained doily. “Mum will have a coronary if she sees this.”
“Tuck it into the twins' laundry later.”
“Ronald, you are diabolical.” Belinda stuffed the doily behind the mirror on top of the fireplace.
“Comb your hair!” It demanded loudly.
“Oh, go polish yourself.”
The bell to the back door jingled.
“Sorry Ronnikins-'' Fred started when the twins came into the room, followed closely by Mum.
“We won’t do that again-” George said. They tended to speak like this, especially when they were pulling the wool over someone's eyes.
“On our honor-”
“On our arses-” Fred finished, and yelped when Molly gave them both swift claps on their backsides.
“To your room NOW!” Mum demanded. The twins took their time stumbling up the stairs, wailing about their bums- Mum scoffed and looked at her husband for support.
“Right… who’s ready for Diagon Alley?”