Magic in itself is a temperamental being, yours more so. There was a reason for this, although it was clouded with doubts from skeptics, more an old lore, a folk story as an explanation for messy wizards and witches through the ages.
The idea goes as follows, muggleborns, as not of pure blood, have erratic techniques embroidered through their bloodlines. It's unreliable and powerful. Whether it was told by prejudiced purebloods witches and wizards who wanted to make muggleborns feel better is where the story differs. The people who wanted to make muggleborns looked bad said it was dangerous, and needed to be eradicated, however that of course could only be half right. It is believed that muggleborns harness a lot of their ability from their emotions, a lot more than any other breed of wizard. Their magic is so incredibly strong and can lose control when feeling powerful like anger, or true love. What the purebloods don't tell their children, is that this can make them some of the most formidable wizards in eons.
Despite this, it will also depend on the individual, whether they tend to think with emotions rather than logic or chose to listen to their heart more than their head. A perfect example is you and Hermione. Both muggleborns, both with very different internal models.
She tended to listen to her head, reigning in her control, thinking things out steps before a certain situation. This is what made her powerful and reliable. This always came across in her determined and confident ability.
You however led with your heart. Constantly drowning in the battle of your emotions, your magic was unpredictable but unbelievably strong. Last night was a small show of what sometimes happens when you get overwhelmed. The bind just snaps, and your magic falls out of its chains, exploding however it feels fit. Other ways it can affect you is by giving you a nosebleed, at the most frustrating times.
Your friends were aware of this habit of it, and always kept an eye on you to see if you were okay. It made you feel safe but sometimes you felt as if you were being babysat. When feeling out of control you had learned that you needed to feel grounded, needing to combat the feeling of overwhelming weakness and the pure terror you felt when your grip on your magic was getting loose. It could've been one of the things you hated most about being a muggleborn. It meant you excelled in all of your practical classes, but couldn't be trusted in the heat of the moment.
--
Your sleepy form was sprawled haphazardly half on, and half off the sofa. Partially covered by one of Molly's knitted blankets. Peaceful and quiet, relishing in the early hours of the morning in the sun dusted Burrow.
Molly was coming down the rickety stairs, unknowing you were in a deep slumber on the sofa. Padding into the kitchen ready to start breakfast she heard rustling from the living room. Suspecting Crookshanks, she peered over the sofa, shocked to see you, undisturbed.
"Oh, sweet girl," she says in a hushed tone. Gently pulling the blanket back over you and going away to busy herself in the kitchen, making sure to dampen the noise she was going to make.
Not too long later a few bed-headed Weasleys trailed down the steps, all being told to keep it down by their mother as to not wake you.
Ginny comes down and has a look at you, going to Hermione who is worriedly eyeing at your shape. "is she okay?" comes her groggy voice.
"I'm not sure, I think so?" comes Hermione's soft reply. "Did you hear her come down?"
"No, she must have come down when we were asleep." They were sitting at the dining table; concern painted their features. Having no idea what you heard, curious as to why you would choose to crash downstairs.
Ron came thudding down the stairs, clumsily bumping into his mother, "You alright?" he practically bellowed. Not having any clue to the situation, waking you up as a result.
Eyes fluttering open and peering around, completely forgetting how you had fallen onto the sofa last night, not having the ability to trail upstairs to bed. You felt confused, eyes flitting around the room and finally connecting the blurry dots of last night. Oh god, last night. Suddenly you were flashed with, Fred and George bickering over... you. Daydreams that you were bound to slip into were brushed away with Molly rushing over to you (after scolding Ron of course).
"Y/n darling! You're up, how are you feeling?" she greeted you with kind words and a warm smile, putting you at ease.
"I'm okay Molly, I slept well. I didn't disturb any of you guys, did I?" you replied, now aware that everyone had been talking in muted sounds.
"Of course not!" you let a breath out, "can I get you a tea darling?" ever the brilliant host.
"I would love one, I don't mind getting it myself," you started, but she was having none of it, telling you it was nonsense and she'd have it to you in a minute.
Ginny motioned for you to come over there and you went graciously, finally feeling awake and slightly calmed down after everything. Hermione was studying you, in her little way. She never meant any discomfort but she did have a habit of analysing every little twitch your face would make in any given time frame. Ginny was relaxed, leaning back in her chair, hands clutching a cup of black coffee and smiling at you.
"so," she opens, "why on earth did you sleep on the sofa?"
As she says this, Fred, the last of the Burrow's inhabitants to come down, steps into the dining room. Hearing what his sister had said and then gazing at you. His eyes were filled with something that could only be deciphered as confusion laced with... pity? Guilt?
Sensing he wasn't wanted in this conversation, or that perhaps it wasn't the right time to try and steal you away for a civilized conversation, he ambled into the kitchen.
"Can we sit outside and talk about it?" you ask. At least outside there are no prying eyes and ears.
"Of course," Hermione replies, and the three of you walk outside, past the kitchen where Molly rushes over to you, handing you a perfect cup of tea. Glancing inside you can see the two tallest red heads conversing, catching eyes with Fred, and proceeding to walk out. You needed to clear your head.
A/N: ahh, I was going to put an author's note last chapter but it slipped my mind! anyways sorry as always for my completely unreliable uploading schedule, I'm going to try to write more this week :) hope you all enjoyed this chapter! let me know what you think & what you want to see in this fic xx
-arlo
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𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖉𝖞 // ғ.ᴡ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
Romance"you know what the most heartbreaking part of it all is? i had to pick myself up and watch you fall in love with a girl, that i knew could never love you half as much as i wish i didn't." [a y/n x Fred Weasley fic] (is going to be re-edited and up...
