ᴘʏʀʀʜɪᴄ ᴠɪᴄᴛᴏʀʏ// ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ᴡʜᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴀᴜ

THE DEMENTOR

"Knitting?" Mrs Weasley asked, eyebrows furrowing in clear confusion. "My dear, why would you possibly want to learn how to knit?"

"Well, Mrs. Weasley, you see I think knitting could be a uh– very rewarding hobby to have, not to mention only fit girls know how to knit." Bluebel said, sending the red head woman a wink.

Molly scoffed softly, almost playfully. She sends Bluebell a smile. "I can't teach you much now, today is a bit hectic but I could send you the steps through letters, maybe a few supplies as well."

"I'll be grateful for the rest of my days, Mrs. Weasley." Bluebell smiles at her.

She smiled back before motioning with her spatula to the door. "Right then, go eat before my sons eat it all."

Waking up at the burrow wasn't like waking up at the Scott's or at the cottage by any means but it was different in a good way.

Mrs Weasley woke them up with a screech, yelling at them that they were late... although they're not, Bluebell was the first up, surprisingly, she took a quick shower when a random, sudden thought struck her. Moments later, after changing, Bluebell found herself walking down the many flies of stairs of the burrow in a mission, that being asking Molly to teach her how to knit.

Bluebell headed to breakfast, where Mr. Weasley was reading the front page of the Daily Prophet with a furrowed brow, Percy and Ron eating their breakfast and Eric Quinn included, in his unusual monochromatic color clothes.

She sat down next to him. "Here." Eric passed her a plate full with food which she took with a large grin.

"Thanks mate." She said with her mouth watering looking down at the food.

She took a bite, the food was melting on her tongue, breakfast is always amazing but as much as she hates to admit it sometimes Mrs. Weasley's food can be bland, no spice and chicken's usually a little dry.

Her eyes turned to Mr. Weasley, who was still reading the daily prophet, the picture of Peter Pettigrew staring right back at Bluebell.

"You think we're going to meet Roman on the station?" Eric asks, before taking a gulp of his orange juice, snapping her out. "He wrote to us saying he'll meet us at the station, right?"

Bluebell shrugged, swapping the crumbs of toast out of the corners of her mouth. "We'll meet him when we meet him."

"That's awfully vague."

"Whatever." Bluebell eyed Mr. Weasley before leaning towards Eric and whispered, "I've got somethin' to tell ya."

Eric frowned, leaning in. "Is this about yesterday? Because you did come back looking slightly agitated."

Bluebell cleared her throat looking down at her plate, guilt pooling on her chest at the events of the night before flood in but before she could tell  him anything, they were interrupted by Fred, George and Ginny.

"You sods, give it back." Ginny yelled loudly as the twins started running down the stairs, a jumper in Fred's hands.

"Oh look at me, I'm Ginny Weasley and fancy Harry Potter." Fred sang, holding the jumper over his chest, moving lady-like.

"Oooh." George mocks, batting his eyelashes dramatically. "Harry Potter."

"Oh, just shut up." Ginny chases them around the kitchen. "Shut up."

"Oi, that's my best friend, you can't fancy him Ginny." Said Ron, cringing at the thought, who's been there stuffing his mouth with food for the past half hour.

"Sod off you too, Ronald." She grumbled, her ears turning pink, snatching the jumper from Fred's fingers.

"What were you saying?" Eric asked Bluebell looking back at her.