fic for slam_girl: You Wouldn't Know (Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, G)
Title: You Wouldn't Know
Author: paradise_loved
Recipient: slam_girl
Rating: G
Character(s): The Weasley family, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger
Warnings: DH Spoilers
Author's Notes: I hope I managed to write your prompt the way you envisioned it. I really wanted to capture the Weasley family post-war. Happy holidays! =) Thanks to beta, M, for all of her hard work during very busy times.
--
You wouldn't know that the Weasley family had been through a war. They were an awfully picturesque family, you know, the kind you see in the Prophet advertising some sort of food. In fact, you wouldn't even know that there had been a war (that is to say, if that war hadn't been all-inclusive in the first place) unless someone told you.
You would see them sitting around the big table on any Sunday night. This particular Sunday night was the first week in December, and a light snow was falling. None of it stuck to the ground, but instead it made the ground shine with icy rain. Mrs. Weasley was sitting, fingers twitching (a nervous habit that never ceased, even after the war), as she watched the front window.
The first 'crack' of apparition was heard and moments later, she heard three knocks on the door. It was likely Bill. Bill was always first.
Fleur stood, teeth chattering, as icy flakes fell into her long hair. Her round belly was visible beneath her overcoat as Mrs. Weasley's eldest son, Bill, pulled Fleur closer to him.
"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to let us in?" Bill asked, eyebrows raised as that familiar Weasley grin spread across his face.
Mrs. Weasley moved aside to let the two of them in. You truly wouldn't know that a few years back, Bill had been in a terrible fight with a werewolf unless someone had told you. Otherwise, you, like most other people of the time, would assume that Bill was that rugged, scarred bloke you see around. The adventure type, you know.
Right as she was about to close the door to the cold, there was yet another 'crack' as a hand was pushed between into the nearly-closed door.
"Mum," George, her third eldest, groaned, as he pushed the door open. "You weren't really going to close that door on me, were you? That's just embarrassing for the both of us, really."
You probably would have heard of George Weasley, the very successful entrepreneur of the family. You would know that he ran Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley, with a newer location in Hogsmeade. You probably wouldn't be able to recognize that George had lost his brother -- his twin -- to the war, not with the way he grinned mischievously and laughed all the time. The only thing noticeable effect from the war was the fact that George was missing an ear, something he used to advertise his Extendable Ears ("You don't even know where my ear actually is - that's how far they stretch!" he was known to tell people).
"You're early," Bill pointed out to his younger brother, as he pulled a chair away from the table to seat Fleur.
"Cherish it," George told him, "because it's not going to happen again. I closed the shop up early due to travel reasons. Did I tell you I'm off to France tomorrow?"
"For what?"
"Business, of course," he scoffed. "I'm an important person, you know."
Mrs .Weasley laughed, though she soon was pulled away to answer the door as more knocks were heard. Before she reached the door, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had entered hand in hand. Ron began brushing snow out of Hermione's curls, murmuring, "Look at you - an absolute mess, at best…"
"I certainly hope we're not late," Hermione said, turning to Mrs. Weasley. If you knew anything about Hermione Granger, you would know that she would ask this question week after week.
The answer was always, "No, not in the least," as Mrs. Weasley said this particular Sunday.
You wouldn't know that Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley had spent a year on the run with their friend, Harry Potter, in order to help fight this war. You might have heard about their engagement, something that was widely publicized throughout the Ministry and even warranted a small paragraph in the Prophet. It was likely that you wouldn't have heard anything about Ron Weasley if it hadn't been for the war, because despite being a very lovely individual, he was not particularly important. He did some work for his brother, George, but that was all that he was known for.
"Is Harry on his way?" Mr. Weasley asked, as he nearly sprinted down the staircase. He was always up and working on Ministry business, and if you knew anything about Arthur Weasley, you would know that he waited until the last possible moment until he came down for supper. He moved awfully quickly for a man his age, a man who, if you didn't know, had nearly died about four years ago. But the family didn't choose to talk about that incident with the snake.
"He should be, yeah," Ron answered, throwing his coat over the side of the sofa, as he did every Sunday. And, following the same pattern every week, Hermione would pick it up and hang it on the coat rack next to the door. "He's got no reason to be late."
And almost right on cue, Harry Potter pushed his way through the door, with the youngest Weasley, Ginny, clutching his elbow. His glasses fogged up immediately, and he pulled them off to wipe the drops of snow off on his sweater. By looking at his nimble figure, it was likely that you wouldn't know that Harry Potter had died, come back to life, and promptly won the biggest war in wizarding history. You would probably hear about Harry Potter from the work he had done as an Auror, catching the occasional rogue wizard or performing raids on houses.
You probably wouldn't know that Ginny Weasley had been taken down to the Chamber of Secrets from the way she threw her head back when she laughed at something. You would most definitely have heard of the winning goals that she had made in the Quidditch came the week previous. She had made the front page of the Prophet for that one.
"We've been standing out there for a minute or so," Ginny complained. "Did none of you hear us knocking?"
"Oh, please, they've all been too busy being in love with each other," George said, cocking an eyebrow (something he was known to do when speaking about Ron and Hermione).
"Shall we sit?" Mr. Weasley offered. He would always make this suggestion before the last person had arrived. Once the family was seated, they would have the opportunity to mock the person who ran in last, huffing and puffing and complaining about things holding them up.
The family gathered around the table and took their respective seats. Their second eldest son, Charlie, was away in Romania working with dragons for a research group. If you were a young female, it was likely that you would have heard of Charlie Weasley, with his tattoos and burns. He was actually very well-known in London, despite rarely making an appearance in the city.
The family sat around the table as Mrs. Weasley began to bring out some bowls of food from the kitchen. She was in the middle of bringing out a roasted chicken when the front door burst open, as Percy, the third eldest Weasley child, came into the home. His horned-rimmed glasses fogged up immediately, similar to that of Harry Potter's, as he rushed to take off his jacket.
George stared at him, with a familiar bemused look on his face, before asking, "You're not -- well -- you're not really on time, are you, Perce?"
"Things were busy," he insisted, as he rushed over to sit at his usual spot at the table. If you knew anything about Percy Weasley, you would know that he was a very time-oriented individual, with a strong dislike of being late. "I had about twelve different reports to finish up before I left the office today."
"You don't take Sundays off?" Hermione asked, curiously.
Percy scowled. If you had known Percy during the war, this scowl would not be an unfamiliar thing to you, as he had sided with the Ministry during the majority of the war. You wouldn't know that on the eve of battle, Percy had abandoned all of his beliefs to rejoin his family. In fact, if you didn't know him at all, you'd just think he was the uppity son of a very loving family.
"I don't take any days off," he told her. "Any day spent away from the Ministry is a waste of time, in my eyes."
Ron nearly choked on his Butterbeer.
There was loud laughter amongst the family, though it was uncertain as to who was laughing at Percy's work ethic or Ron's reaction. There was warmth and happiness, which is something that you would normally associate with the Weasley family. You might happen to know about Bill Weasley's work for Gringott's in Egypt (that is to say, if you followed that sort of economic news). It was also likely that you would know about Ginny Weasley's professional Quidditch career.
You would maybe see the occasional toast to Fred Weasley (or to a Remus Lupin or Nymphadora Tonks, perhaps), but even those were usually humorous and kind-hearted in nature ("To the twin who had both ears," George was known to contribute). You really wouldn't know anything about a war or a Dark Lord unless you asked, but as far as anyone was concerned, the Weasleys had moved past all of that.
Author: paradise_loved
Recipient: slam_girl
Rating: G
Character(s): The Weasley family, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger
Warnings: DH Spoilers
Author's Notes: I hope I managed to write your prompt the way you envisioned it. I really wanted to capture the Weasley family post-war. Happy holidays! =) Thanks to beta, M, for all of her hard work during very busy times.
--
You wouldn't know that the Weasley family had been through a war. They were an awfully picturesque family, you know, the kind you see in the Prophet advertising some sort of food. In fact, you wouldn't even know that there had been a war (that is to say, if that war hadn't been all-inclusive in the first place) unless someone told you.
You would see them sitting around the big table on any Sunday night. This particular Sunday night was the first week in December, and a light snow was falling. None of it stuck to the ground, but instead it made the ground shine with icy rain. Mrs. Weasley was sitting, fingers twitching (a nervous habit that never ceased, even after the war), as she watched the front window.
The first 'crack' of apparition was heard and moments later, she heard three knocks on the door. It was likely Bill. Bill was always first.
Fleur stood, teeth chattering, as icy flakes fell into her long hair. Her round belly was visible beneath her overcoat as Mrs. Weasley's eldest son, Bill, pulled Fleur closer to him.
"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to let us in?" Bill asked, eyebrows raised as that familiar Weasley grin spread across his face.
Mrs. Weasley moved aside to let the two of them in. You truly wouldn't know that a few years back, Bill had been in a terrible fight with a werewolf unless someone had told you. Otherwise, you, like most other people of the time, would assume that Bill was that rugged, scarred bloke you see around. The adventure type, you know.
Right as she was about to close the door to the cold, there was yet another 'crack' as a hand was pushed between into the nearly-closed door.
"Mum," George, her third eldest, groaned, as he pushed the door open. "You weren't really going to close that door on me, were you? That's just embarrassing for the both of us, really."
You probably would have heard of George Weasley, the very successful entrepreneur of the family. You would know that he ran Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley, with a newer location in Hogsmeade. You probably wouldn't be able to recognize that George had lost his brother -- his twin -- to the war, not with the way he grinned mischievously and laughed all the time. The only thing noticeable effect from the war was the fact that George was missing an ear, something he used to advertise his Extendable Ears ("You don't even know where my ear actually is - that's how far they stretch!" he was known to tell people).
"You're early," Bill pointed out to his younger brother, as he pulled a chair away from the table to seat Fleur.
"Cherish it," George told him, "because it's not going to happen again. I closed the shop up early due to travel reasons. Did I tell you I'm off to France tomorrow?"
"For what?"
"Business, of course," he scoffed. "I'm an important person, you know."
Mrs .Weasley laughed, though she soon was pulled away to answer the door as more knocks were heard. Before she reached the door, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had entered hand in hand. Ron began brushing snow out of Hermione's curls, murmuring, "Look at you - an absolute mess, at best…"
"I certainly hope we're not late," Hermione said, turning to Mrs. Weasley. If you knew anything about Hermione Granger, you would know that she would ask this question week after week.
The answer was always, "No, not in the least," as Mrs. Weasley said this particular Sunday.
You wouldn't know that Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley had spent a year on the run with their friend, Harry Potter, in order to help fight this war. You might have heard about their engagement, something that was widely publicized throughout the Ministry and even warranted a small paragraph in the Prophet. It was likely that you wouldn't have heard anything about Ron Weasley if it hadn't been for the war, because despite being a very lovely individual, he was not particularly important. He did some work for his brother, George, but that was all that he was known for.
"Is Harry on his way?" Mr. Weasley asked, as he nearly sprinted down the staircase. He was always up and working on Ministry business, and if you knew anything about Arthur Weasley, you would know that he waited until the last possible moment until he came down for supper. He moved awfully quickly for a man his age, a man who, if you didn't know, had nearly died about four years ago. But the family didn't choose to talk about that incident with the snake.
"He should be, yeah," Ron answered, throwing his coat over the side of the sofa, as he did every Sunday. And, following the same pattern every week, Hermione would pick it up and hang it on the coat rack next to the door. "He's got no reason to be late."
And almost right on cue, Harry Potter pushed his way through the door, with the youngest Weasley, Ginny, clutching his elbow. His glasses fogged up immediately, and he pulled them off to wipe the drops of snow off on his sweater. By looking at his nimble figure, it was likely that you wouldn't know that Harry Potter had died, come back to life, and promptly won the biggest war in wizarding history. You would probably hear about Harry Potter from the work he had done as an Auror, catching the occasional rogue wizard or performing raids on houses.
You probably wouldn't know that Ginny Weasley had been taken down to the Chamber of Secrets from the way she threw her head back when she laughed at something. You would most definitely have heard of the winning goals that she had made in the Quidditch came the week previous. She had made the front page of the Prophet for that one.
"We've been standing out there for a minute or so," Ginny complained. "Did none of you hear us knocking?"
"Oh, please, they've all been too busy being in love with each other," George said, cocking an eyebrow (something he was known to do when speaking about Ron and Hermione).
"Shall we sit?" Mr. Weasley offered. He would always make this suggestion before the last person had arrived. Once the family was seated, they would have the opportunity to mock the person who ran in last, huffing and puffing and complaining about things holding them up.
The family gathered around the table and took their respective seats. Their second eldest son, Charlie, was away in Romania working with dragons for a research group. If you were a young female, it was likely that you would have heard of Charlie Weasley, with his tattoos and burns. He was actually very well-known in London, despite rarely making an appearance in the city.
The family sat around the table as Mrs. Weasley began to bring out some bowls of food from the kitchen. She was in the middle of bringing out a roasted chicken when the front door burst open, as Percy, the third eldest Weasley child, came into the home. His horned-rimmed glasses fogged up immediately, similar to that of Harry Potter's, as he rushed to take off his jacket.
George stared at him, with a familiar bemused look on his face, before asking, "You're not -- well -- you're not really on time, are you, Perce?"
"Things were busy," he insisted, as he rushed over to sit at his usual spot at the table. If you knew anything about Percy Weasley, you would know that he was a very time-oriented individual, with a strong dislike of being late. "I had about twelve different reports to finish up before I left the office today."
"You don't take Sundays off?" Hermione asked, curiously.
Percy scowled. If you had known Percy during the war, this scowl would not be an unfamiliar thing to you, as he had sided with the Ministry during the majority of the war. You wouldn't know that on the eve of battle, Percy had abandoned all of his beliefs to rejoin his family. In fact, if you didn't know him at all, you'd just think he was the uppity son of a very loving family.
"I don't take any days off," he told her. "Any day spent away from the Ministry is a waste of time, in my eyes."
Ron nearly choked on his Butterbeer.
There was loud laughter amongst the family, though it was uncertain as to who was laughing at Percy's work ethic or Ron's reaction. There was warmth and happiness, which is something that you would normally associate with the Weasley family. You might happen to know about Bill Weasley's work for Gringott's in Egypt (that is to say, if you followed that sort of economic news). It was also likely that you would know about Ginny Weasley's professional Quidditch career.
You would maybe see the occasional toast to Fred Weasley (or to a Remus Lupin or Nymphadora Tonks, perhaps), but even those were usually humorous and kind-hearted in nature ("To the twin who had both ears," George was known to contribute). You really wouldn't know anything about a war or a Dark Lord unless you asked, but as far as anyone was concerned, the Weasleys had moved past all of that.