Someone Great, James S. Potter

XIII

UPON WALKING INTO the Potter residence, Stevie could tell that this Christmas would be vastly different than the others. There were red-heads of all shapes, sizes, and ages running rampant, their brunette counterparts watching helplessly as they did so. Stevie thought that her and her father's entrance would go unnoticed amongst the chaos, but Molly Weasley was embracing her tightly before she knew it.

"You must be Stevie," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling widely as she pulled away from Stevie. She hugged Oliver next, turning his face red from how tightly she squeezed him. "Always so lovely to see you, Oliver. Well, come in, come in! Everyone's in the living room."

Stevie followed closely behind Molly, ducking to avoid the various bewitched decorations flying above her head. The short woman stopped abruptly in the doorway of the living room, causing Stevie and Oliver to bump into each other, narrowly avoiding toppling over.

The room was much calmer than the entry way. Harry and Ginny sat in an orange armchair, each of them with a butterbeer in hand. On the couch next to them sat James, Albus, and their little sister Lily, a freckled ginger girl with a striking resemblance to her mother. Angelina, George, and Freddie sat on the couch across from them with Roxanne sitting on the floor, leaning against her mother's legs. Stevie gave a small smile as she caught James' eye. His face lit up as he moved to greet her, but before he could do so, Molly alerted the room.

"The Woodses have arrived," Molly exclaimed, stepping aside to show the others. The room erupted in cheerful greeting as Oliver and Stevie hugged the others. When Stevie got to Albus, she picked him up and spun him around until he got dizzy.

"And you must be Lily," Stevie said to the youngest Potter, bending over to reach her level. She looked to be only a couple years younger than Albus.

Lily smiled and nodded, sticking out her hand to shake. "You must be Stevie. Thank Merlin you're here—James hasn't shut up about you ever since he got home—"

"Hey," James exclaimed, drowning out his sister's voice with his own. "Saving the best for last, are we?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Stevie said, smiling. She hugged him tightly anyway, her heart skipping a beat as his strong arms wrapped around her waist. "It's nice to see you're still alive. I wasn't sure you'd be able to survive without me."

"Very funny," James said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm so glad you guys are here," Ginny said, releasing Oliver from her hold, "You can settle our debate: should James get a hair cut?"

Stevie turned to James, taking in his appearance. It had only been a few days since she'd last seen the boy, but it seemed like he was a different person. He looked even more chipper than usual, no doubt because of Molly Weasley's infamous cooking skills and the fact that he was surrounded by his family. It made Stevie long for a family as big as his.

"I think his hair looks fine," Stevie said, reaching out to ruffle James' brown locks.

"It's not nearly as long as mine," Bill Weasley said, slipping his long, ginger locks out of the clasp it was in. His hair fell to the tip of his shoulders in waves. Molly rolled her eyes.

"You say that like it's a good thing," Molly said, poking her son in his side. "If you were to ask me, James' hair is in desperate need of a good trim. It's much too messy."

"Whatever, Gran," James said, running his hand through his already messy hair. "Aren't there more important things to discuss, like—"

"Like where we're going to be sleeping," Oliver chimed in, clapping his hand on Stevie's shoulder.