"I know," I replied to him. "I should probably thank her."

"You're different," George murmured in my ear as he dragged me out of the hall.

"How so?" I asked my boyfriend.

"Because you're not like your family at all."

"I suppose that I'm not," I replied. He chuckled as he kissed my cheek.

"My mum and dad are going to love you."

That was what I was worried about.

How could they accept me? I am a Lestrange after all.

"Are you sure? I mean... I'm a Slytherin, and I am a Lestrange-"

"But you are also a blood traitor," the Weasley pointed out with a smile.

"I guess that I am. Now bring me over to your mother. I want to thank her."

•••

"Okay, so.... Norrie, this is my house. Well, my parents house."

I smiled. It was beautiful.

"It's not much, but it's home."

"It's amazing! I love it," I told George as I intertwined my hand with his.

He opened the front door and let me in first; the inside of the Burrow, which was what they all called this place, was one word:

Amazhang.

Pictures of the family lined the walls; I saw a few of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger up there with George's brother Ron. I saw some of Fred and George as little kids.

I went right up to one with George in the bathtub as a baby, naked, playing with a rubber duck.

I laughed.

"George? Look at this! It's you in the bathtub!" I cooed.

My boyfriend grumbled, "Mum said she took that down."

I found myself laughing at his comment. A quick poke of sadness erupted within me; I wish that I had pictures of me up in my old house.

My mother wouldn't do that; nobody did besides one person.

There were pictures up of Draco in his parents house, where I stayed. There hadn't been any of me up.

When I went to Aunt Andromeda's house (which I often did, when Aunt Narcissa and Uncle Lucius had company over), I would see pictures of Tonks up. There was also pictures of me up; I felt more at home there.

Releasing those thoughts, I said, "Obviously she didn't, because those are still up."

He grinned cheekily at me and pecked me on the lips. I felt sparks go through us; it was as if I was in the process of electrocution.

"Time for you to formally meet my family."

"I've already met Fred," I told him. "Ron too, and Ginny."

"You haven't met Charlie or Bill or my parents."

"True. Bless your sister though, using the bat bogey hex on my cousin Draco."

"I forgot he was your cousin," George mentioned. "You're not like him at all. Nor do you look like him."

"Which is good. Looking like a ferret isn't on my bucket list."

George laughed. The man pulled me into the kitchen, where his family was.

"Georgie! You're alright! Mum was worried sick," Fred announced. "Oh, hey Norrie."

"Hey Fred," I replied.

"Norrie? Whose Norrie?" A woman asked.

The woman had a more plump figure; her face showed kindness and had a motherly look to it. Her eyes were a deep warm chocolate brown like George's. With curly red hair and an apron with flour on it (had she been baking a cake?), she looked like what I'd always pictured a mother would.

"I am," I spoke up, raising my hand.

Her eyes darted down to the hand that was interlocked with George's. She glanced at her son, then at me.

"Are you dating?"

"Yes," George smiles proudly. "We have been since we were both sixteen."

"How come we didn't know?" Bill, his eldest brother questioned.

I looked at my boyfriend and I nodded; I would reveal my identity.

"Uhm... Because of who my parents are."

"Who are they?"

I took a deep breath. "Bellatrix and Roudolphus Lestrange."

Complete silence.

I decided to break it.

"Thanks, by the way, Mrs. Weasley, for killing my mother. That makes you an awesome person in my book."

I was sincere about it. Mrs. Weasley must had had a sixth scent, because I could tell that she knew I meant it.

"No problem, dearie."