WEASLEY, lucy denise

you’re born on a cloudy day, the comforting sound of rain hitting the windows echoing through the small birthing room as you come out screaming. they’re all surprised to see that you have a head full of your mother’s curly brown hair, not a single strand is the garish weasley red you hated as a child. you were an anomaly from the very start, with your soft brown curls and your seafoam eyes. some say that that tiny difference is what made you so strange, but you know better.

………

you’ve been a daddy’s girl since day one, crying when your mother held you or tried to nurse you, stopping only when he would rock you and sing sweet lullabies in your ears. as soon as you’re old enough to speak, you realize how much this connection angers your mother, but you hardly care. she has molly, and molly has always been more enough. so you spend your childhood running around outside, painting pictures for a father that spends too many hours at a desk to make enough money for his small family to want for nothing. the few times you’re allowed to visit him are magical, but you suddenly realize that although the click-clacking of shoes on marble and the zipping paper memos are interesting, that you could never stay in such a setting. the large walls are too confining, and you can't stand the smell of fountain pen ink that hangs heavy in the air. you can remember running to your father's desk, tears streaming down your cheeks as you made blubbering sounds that you hoped he understood. and in some strange sense, you think he did, which is what makes your daddy special. he understands people, despite being able to shut them out. he's your role model, and all you want to do is make him proud.

………

as you age, you begin to realize that you don’t really understand your family. they’re all loud and enjoy eating copious amounts of food while surrounded by hoards of people. but you’re more on the quiet side like your father, only jumping into the conversation when it seems interesting enough and never eating more than one helping of each item. you still enjoy spending time with them, but you can’t help but imagine what family get-togethers would be like if everyone wasn’t so… weasleyish. you’ve never really considered yourself a weasley. your cherished brown hair already sets you apart, but the difference in personality is what really helps you to separate yourself.

………

the day you get your letter is one of the happiest days of your life. the small slip of parchment means that you finally get to go join molly and your cousins at hogwarts! but this doesn’t excite you because you want to be with them. no, you just want to be able to top their stories, and no longer be one of the younger ones that have no idea whether or not they’re telling the truth.

when you first arrive, you're a bundle of nerves. both your parents have assured you that they will still love you, no matter what house you land in. despite their hurried promises, you still can't help but wonder if it's true. your mother was a ravenclaw, and your daddy a gryffindor... in the weasley clan that's a lot to measure up to. most of your cousins have landed in one of their parents' houses, and you can't imagine the embarrassment that would come from not doing the same.

when your name is called, you try and stop your knees from shaking as you hurriedly make you way up to the small stool, anxiously chewing at your bottom lip as you sit down. the hat takes it's time deciding, not really letting on which house it's going to put you in, when suddenly: SLYTHERIN! for a moment you can't move, can't even think as the hat's words sink in. if you're honest, you aren't really surprised. you do share more characteristics with that house than any other, but it's still a pleasant shock. as you slide off the stool you can already feel yourself adapting to the idea of wearing the green and silver robes... green has always looked lovely with your hair.

………

school is everything you could've imagined and more! you excel at both potions and herbology, thoroughly enjoying the satisfactory feeling that settles in the pit of your stomach every time you execute something as perfectly as you can. some of your cousins don't talk to you for weeks after the sorting, but they eventually come around. their frosty looks hurt, but as you learn from your new friends, hiding that hurt is one of the best coping methods available. thanks to them, you learn how to keep your temper mainly under control, and how to hold people at arms length. it's helping you fit it, and for the most part you are grateful. but they also introduce you to a whole new world of loud music, pulsing bodies and drinks that sting the back of your throat. when you're younger, you dislike them, but as you age, you start to crave the flashing lights and music. you try and keep that side of you hidden whenever you're at home, for fear of your father finding out. he'd be so disappointed if he knew you were dancing in an inappropriate manner with whichever boy took your fancy, drinking alcohol fit for a twenty one year old, and smoking the occasional cigarette. but you enjoy it, and as long as it doesn't effect anything important, you see no problem with it.

you're 'that weasley chick' with the soft brown curls and the seafoam eyes that always dances and has fun, but heads back to her own dorm every night... alone. you see no point in sleeping around. you've seen and experienced your fair share of fumbling hands while dancing, but you've never let it get farther then that. you know how stupid and cliche it sounds, but you want to save yourself for someone special. if you do that, then maybe all your bad choices will be forgiven.

………

over the years, you’ve been sure to keep up a steady correspondence with your parents, assuring yourself that they’re just as fine as they were when you were still living at home. and up until christmas break of your fifth year, you manage to remain convinced of this fact. you started to notice the way your mother is always so secretive when she goes out, and the way she shuts you in your room whenever she has friends over. you’re far too old to be locked away like a toddler! besides, you’ve never liked being told what to do, especially by her, so one day you decide to come out of your room, just to see the twisted look of annoyance that crosses your mother’s pretty face. instead you find her entangled with the postman, a look of pure pleasure on her face as they do unspeakable things on the rug your daddy bought for her. in an instant your mother goes from being a caring individual that you can tolerate on most days to the spawn of satan… someone you did not ever want to be associated with again.

you don’t have the heart to tell your daddy what you say, instead choosing to dye your hair a pretty auburn color that still can’t be mistaken as the typical weasley red. you wanted to wash away any trace of your mother that you could, and although it didn’t hide the brown completely, it masked it, which was all you really wanted. you stopped wearing it curly, preferring to use straightening charms. the features she’s passed down to you are still blatantly obvious, but at least your hair is no longer a carbon copy of hers.

………

you're sixteen now, and things are much the same. you still enjoy herbology and potions, go out to parties, and continue to hold out for that one special someone. it's a boring existence, but one that you've accepted will continue until you graduate. you've decided that you want to become a botanist after graduating. it's something that will allow you to put your knowledge of potions and herbology to good use, and you'll frequently be outside.

your family still doesn't understand what possessed you to get ride of your chocolate locks, and on occasion you've considered changing it back. but then you see your mother and that stranger, and the reason for doing it in the first place comes washing over you. you will never be like her... you will never hurt your daddy in the same ways she has. you're always going to make him proud, instead... because really, what else is a daddy's girl going to do?