Chapter Text
There are very few times Sara Wyre goes through Diagon Alley anymore, much less even steps foot in the wizarding world.
However, when you have an ill 6 year-old at home and know best from herbology that a mandrake leaf will do the trick... there isn't many other places to go.
She scans over the shelves of cork-topped jars, little black labels specifying their contents. She runs a finger down the leaves... Pine Root, Willow Tree, Pumpkin, Dare-Root, Mandrake.
Bingo.
She picks one jar off the shelf and turns to carry it to the counter. The counter-witch, of which, has a whole line built up for her in the shop. Sarah, getting in line behind a shorter women with frizzy red curls and a basket full of goodies, picks up a jug of pumpkin juice and waits her turn to check out. It's when she stops in the moment, taking a breather and gathering everything, is when she notices the ache in her feet and pounding in her temples.
She releases a deep-buried sigh and rolls her neck out.
The woman with bright hair turns slightly, craning her neck to check on the seemingly frazzled woman behind her. She twisted her features in the way you only do when you're thinking on something, the familiarity of the long, blonde hair and tattered floral skirts reminded her of someone she used to—
"Sara Wyre?" The woman asks.
Confused, Sara brings her head down to look at the woman. Not only was her hair red, but her face was pouted. She had familiar blushed cheeks with darker eyes and thin lips.
The face clicks immediately.
"Molly Prewitt," Sara gasps.
Molly smiles brightly, glad her old house friend recognized her after what's been over 10 years now. "Well, tickle me pink, it is you!" She sets down her basket, notifying Sara to do the same with her shopping items, and reaches out for a hug. "Oh! It's been too long... how are you dear?"
Sara takes in Molly's embrace like a warm fire on a winter evening. "I'm doing just fine, Molly," she says. "How are you?"
The two break, taking their respected items from the wooden floor.
"Busy," Molly admits, "but I'm doing splendid myself."
"Molly Prewitt always knows how to keep herself up and running," Sara jokes.
"Oh, I'm actually Molly Weasley now," Molly tells her.
Sara's brow quirks. "Weasley? As in... Arthur?" She asks. "Gryffindor Arthur Weasley?"
Molly chuckles, "Oh, yes... that would be the one."
"He always did seem to fancy you," Sara reminds her. "But congratulations! That's wonderful!"
"Oh why thank you," Molly gushes. "Took me by surprise... of course, we'd already had Bill by then," she rambled. "And then the wedding and a house in the country-side and next thing I know we've got 7 of them and I have to buy pumpkin juice twice a week just to keep up!"
Sara's jaw goes slack. "Seven children?" She asks to clarify.
Molly nods, "Seven."
"That's wonderful," Sara decides, "really... Molly. I can only imagine how wonderful of a mother you are."
Molly waves her hand, "please, I can only be as good as they make me... though, they do make me pretty wonderful."
The two laugh, filling the little street shop with flittered breathes from two sweet-toned women. Sara adjusts her hold on the pumpkin juice and steps forward in line... about 3 people ahead of them now.
"Well what about you?" Molly asks curiously. "Surely some lucky bloke has picked you up by now..."
Sara smiles sheepishly. "I'm... dating," she admits, "but... I do have a little girl."
Molly's eyes light up. "Do you really? How old?"
"I do," Sara confirms, still smiling, "and she's turning seven in August here..."
Again, if even possible, Molly Weasley's eyes widened and brightened and sparkled with excitement. "Well! I have twin boys who were seven in April!"
Sara's expression flooded with glee. Her smile even broke out her teeth. "Really?! Oh my goodness how wonderful!" She beamed at her old friend and role-model. "How funny is that?"
"Quite," Molly agrees. "Quite... Oh! I'm sure they would get along perfectly!"
They move ahead in line once more.
Sara nods, "Don't you? Oh, I have been looking for her to have some friends, especially in our world... her father, who I don't speak to or even of, is a wizard so... I'm expecting her Hogwarts letter come 5 years from now, and we don't live in the city here."
"Oh, Sara, I am so sorry, dear..." Molly reaches out a full arm, clothed in thin yellow fabric, and squeezes Sara's free hand. "Well I think it's about high time we catch up, Miss Wyre," Molly says pointedly. "And now that we've got a couple little ones in the same year, all the more reason to get together."
"That would be perfectly splendid," Sara gushes.
And so the two exchange addresses with excitement and agree on a date for a lunch and afternoon play. Sarah gets her pumpkin juice and her mandrake leaves and leaves for home, lighter in her spirits, where a little pale, freckled-face girl waits under her covers for her mother to come home.
Sarah checked on her girl while the water boiled downstairs on the stove. She broke out her box of herbs and things from under her bed and prepared the mandrake leaves for her daughter to drink, the whole time thinking of Molly's proposal; initially, she figured they were just doing 'polite-parent-chatter', but perhaps it would be good, Sara thought, to get back in touch with her old school friends. Especially with one who had so many kids close to her little one's age.
She needed wizard friends too... as much as she won't know about magic for another 3 or 4 years.
Hot tea, fresh biscuits and a glass of water piled on the tray which Sara carried up to her little one. The girl sat right-up in her bed. Her wide, hazel-green eyes scanning the tray for approval with the frizz of her dark brown hair circling her tiny head like a lion's mane from resting in bed all day.
"Still feelin' alright, bug?" Sara asks the girl softly.
She nods as her mother sets the tray on her baby pink quilt. "Peachy," she mutters.
Sara chuckles lightly. "Well, I made you some of that special tea... promise it'll having you feeling spritely in no time."
The girl takes the tea cup in both hands and brings it apprehensively to her lips. Steam rolls up from the murky brown liquid. Sara watches.
"How do you feel about... maybe making some new friends?" Sara asks her daughter. "Mummy ran into an old school mate and she happens to have some kids around your age so I figured maybe we could go to theirs and have some lunch? A play date?"
Before her lips even touched the ceramic edge of the cup, the little one gasped excitedly. "Yes!" She nodded, tilting the cup upright. "Yes please!"
Again, Sara's lips drew upwards. "Alright, I'll take it I should Owl Molly then... conform for next Sunday."
"Sunday?!" The girl gasped. "But that forever away!"
"It's only a week from tomorrow!" Sara reasoned, "besides, we must be sure you're all well and rested and feeling up to it. Right?"
Taking in her mother's word, the girl nodded. "Right," she agreed. "I've got to be swell."
"That you do, bug..." Sara stands from the edge of the bed and leans in to kiss her daughter's forehead. "Now, drink your tea and have some biscuits. Keep the water on your bedside, I'll be up in a bit to check on you." She makes it to the bedroom door before turning back and smiling, "call me if you need me."
"I will!"
+++
Meeting the entire Weasley family for the first time nerved both Sara and her girl, though neither of them showed it. They spent the car ride listening to music loud enough to cover the unsettling hum of the motor and not doing much speaking.
"Are they mean?" the girl had asked.
Sara looked in the rearview mirror at her daughter in puzzlement. Her dainty fingers fiddles with the green of her skirt as she gazed out the window of the countryside. "What do you mean?"
"Those boys," she told her mother. "Are they mean to girls like the boys at my school?"
Unsure of the answer, but knowing Molly well, Sara had shaken her head and promised that they weren't, and if they were that they didn't mean to be. They were boys after all, silly boys with many other brothers and one little sister. They were bound to be a little rambunctious.
When they arrive, Molly is sitting outside at a picnic table with a basket in her lap and knitting-needles in her hands. She sets them aside when she spots Sara's old beetle pull up to the side of the house (or as her and Arthur coined: the burrow) and calls the children from the yard and inside the house to come and greet their visitors.
The Weasley children run to their mother's side, each one paler and more chubby-cheeked than the last. All of them ruffled with red hair and dressed in mud-stained clothes reserved for play time. The smallest one of all, the only little girl, shoves her way to the front and curls in at her mother's side.
Molly and Sara greet each other with a hug and a sweet "how are you?" while the children stand and stare at one another. Seven Weasleys looking towards this little dark haired girl who actually didn't look much like the accented woman who'd brought her over at all. The little girl ogling at this throng of children who looked much alike (two of them even exactly so) and is amazed at the fact that one could have so many siblings. She's only ever known her and her mother in their rental flat... the occasional friend her mother would have over for a few dinners before it was just the two of them again. The thought of even one brother or sister could send her mind into endless wonderment, let alone six of them.
Yet, she was about to have 7.
"You must be," Molly kneels onto the ground in front of the little girl, "little Wyre." Sara kneels down as well as the girl looks over the kids once more before coming to meet the kind, warm smile of the women her mother was just embracing.
The girl sticks out her hand for the woman, just as her mother has told her to do a few times before when meeting new people, especially grown-ups. "I'm Evelyn Wyre," she says. "My mum calls me 'bug'."
Molly, seemingly delighted and amused by the girl's introduction, takes her hand and gives it a shake. "I'm Molly," she greets. They release their hands and Molly turns to her children. "Kids," she says, "This is Sara Wyre and her daughter Evelyn. Sara went to school with your father and I."
"Were you a Gryffindor like mum and dad?" The smallest boy asks.
Sara pauses. "Actually, I'm a Hufflepuff... I was a few years younger than your mum, she was the best study buddy I ever had."
Moly chuckles lightly, "You even taught me a thing or two, Sara, come now..." she shifts her weight on her knees and then turns to face her kids with Sara and Evelyn. "So, this is my lot! That there is Bill," she points to the tallest boy, "and then we have Charlie," she continues down the line, "and Percy... then my boys who're Evelyn's year: Fred and George. Then we've got Ronald and my baby Ginny..."
Sara waves at the kids, who return the favor. Ginny runs forward to her mother and holds tight around her neck before turning her head to Evelyn.
"Hi," Evelyn pipes.
"Mum said we were having friends over today," one of the duplicates chime. "Are these the friends mum?"
His counter part elbows him. "They're the only ones here," he points out.
Evelyn tilts her head at the pair. "You have the same face," she says.
"Ev," her mum coos. "They're twins."
"Yeah, we're twins," one says.
"Same face," the other explains.
"Same hair," one adds.
"Same mind," the other teases.
"Mum screws us up a lot."
"Calls him Fred."
"Him George."
"When I'm Fred."
"And I'm George!"
Evelyn steps up to the two, only a little shorter than either of them. She studies their faces for a long moment, bouncing between Fred and George... or maybe it was George and Fred. She couldn't remember. She'd already forgotten which was which. No matter, she couldn't find the difference anyways.
"We can go show you the game we've set up, if you'd like," One offers.
"It's loads of fun," the other promises. "It's like quidditch, but on the ground. Mum says were too little to fly yet."
"What's quidditch?" Evelyn asks them.
Fred and George look at one another, prideful smiles on their faces. When they look back at the confused girl, they step aside and guide her through.
"Don't worry," one announces. "We'll show you!"
"It'll be fun!"
Molly and Sara watch the three trot off together, unaware of the bond they'd just watch forge.