Blair spent most of her days working on the potion. The Order had heard about the book that had caused so much trouble and decided that it was best to keep her away from missions where she could be confronted by Death Eaters. They were bound to be aggravated from Fletcher's death as it was probably his job to get the book out of the Order's hands. At this point, they wouldn't care if they killed Blair in the progress of finishing the job for him. The Order agreed Blair should focus on the recipe so they could begin testing it as soon as they were able to.

Fred and George headed out on Order missions in her place and were content with knowing she was at home safe with Molly fussing over her constantly. With the girl now being a permanent resident, Molly had claimed her as her new best friend. The woman had needed someone to gossip with about the family during the day and was always asking about her and George's ideas for their wedding. Blair didn't mind this because she got to see the many embarrassing and adorable baby pictures of the twins and the rest of the Weasley children. She was uncontrollably giggling one evening when the twins came home with Arthur in tow with Molly holding the famous photo album that had been pulled out from its place on the book shelf too many times for Fred and George's liking.

"They always found their way into the pond whenever we weren't looking," Molly would chuckle at the moving picture of a young Fred and George being found bathing in moss.

"Mum, stop showing those!"

"But they're so sweet!"

"Aw Georgie, your little gap tooth!"

As for the previously mentioned wedding, after hearing about George's plans for their future, Blair was even more eager to exchange their vows and officially be wedded. George didn't know that Fred had told her about his plans and his hopefulness for a ceremony and Blair didn't want to make it obvious that she knew. But it was beginning to become unbearable. The ring was starting to feel tight and the diamond was beginning to dim, but she had considered the possibility of that being only of her marriage-deprived mind. Her dreams, however, were vivid and consistently solid in her vision. They consisted of the same small house that sat up on a hill of lush, green grass. The house tilted to the right from the continuous wind that came with living on the tallest hill in Puddlemere. George would emerge from the inside and turn to her to give her a kiss goodbye. He would then apparate to the shop in Diagon Alley and Blair would stay home creating potions and new products for him to take everyday. It was getting difficult waking up to then find George gone on yet another dangerous Order mission and still feeling the engagement ring on her finger (that she still loved but yearned for more meaning).

Their shared bedroom had also become Blair's potions room. Keeping the windows constantly open to waft out the smell of pickled toad and Merlin knows what other stenches, she sat on a pillow from off of Fred's bed and spent hours in front of a steaming cauldron. She had added all the things that were originally from her healing potion and was beginning to add the things that Fred had brought her. This meant that she would soon need to venture out to find the rare ingredients that made the brewing process so difficult. Blair dreaded this moment because not only were they incredibly hard to find, but the procedures to undergo before adding them to the potion were both long and brutal. To make it brief, one of the procedures was taking a live, near extinct toad and skinning it while its flesh is still moist. If this isn't followed exactly as Blair's father's book says, the whole potion will need to be redone.

Blair didn't want to know how her father knew how to do all of this without seeking help from dark wizards and witches. She supposed she would need to venture to the same types of dark folk in order to get the right ingredients. Hopefully, she'd be able to get a large supply so when the time where she would need more could be further delayed.

On a particular afternoon, the room was cold and the potion was beginning to change into a tangerine colour. The smell wasn't particularly pleasant and Blair wondered how such a stench could bring someone back from the dead rather than keel over the living. Corked bottles littered the floor and herbs were being crushed up, burned and dropped into the cauldron. She had never worked this long on a potion before and wasn't surprised that her father never got to finishing it before he died.

"Here," a handkerchief appeared in her vision and she jumped, turning her head to see George standing over her with his nose and mouth covered. What was presumably Molly's, the handkerchief sat in a triangle over his face and shielded any of the ghastly stench from entering his sinuses.

"Thanks," she took the one he held and wrapped it around her face, relieved that she could breathe somewhat easily.

"You should take a break. You haven't left the house in weeks," George sat down on the floor next to her and eyed the many bottles that encircled her like a human sacrifice.

"And go where?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "We can go for a walk or something."

"Can we go to the pond that you and Freddie rolled in when you were four?"

"Sure."

She beamed and put the lid over the top of the cauldron. He helped her up from the floor when she complained about her legs falling asleep and pulled off their handkerchiefs. Blair let out a sigh at the fresh air that came with exiting the room and leaving towards the front door. She definitely needed to take breaks throughout the process otherwise she'd go mad with the stench and the nasty skinning of helpless animals. She hoped that she wouldn't turn into the insane potioneers she's heard of who spent every waking moment on their projects before dying alone with near no life lived.

The two passed the living room and saw Fred being swatted at by Molly for lying across the entire sofa while she dusted around him and fixed up the mess he most likely made.

"We're going out for a stroll, Mum," George announced.

"Alright, dear," Molly replied over her shoulder with a quick smile.

"Can I come?" Fred perked up but was stopped by his mother.

"No you don't, Frederick. You're helping me with cleaning out the loft. Someone's got to keep that ghoul at bay."

"Don't talk about Ron like that, Mum. How rude."

Blair shut the door behind her and cut out the yelp of pain that came from Molly whacking Fred across the arm. They stepped off the porch and headed into the tall grass, George leading Blair towards the pond he and Fred had rolled in during their youth. He doubted he would be walking back into the house covered in moss and matte with mud (which upset him and also relieved him), but at least she would be getting a breath of fresh air and not a head full of pickled toad.

"Oh I forgot to give you this back at the house," George mumbled and pulled out a jar from the inside of his coat pocket. Its contents clanked against the sides of the glass and Blair took it from his hand, eyeing it in interest.

"Wow... thanks for the bark?"

"It's Seafold bark."

"Oh!"

George chuckled and slung his arm around her shoulders. During today's Order mission, they had raided a string of hidden magical shops after being told Death Eaters had been visiting them frequently as of recent. While doing so, George had caught a glimpse of a line of jars and bottles that sat out of sight on the wall. He remembered a few of the rare ingredients Blair needed and snatched one of the jars off the shelf to slip into his jacket. Luckily for him, the shop owner was dodgy enough for the Order to threaten him with exposing his shop to Snatchers. He wouldn't have to worry about being accused of theft.

"These are native to South Africa, you know," Blair said aloud as she turned the jar in her hand to see the red threading through the bark. "They grow in swarms and give a good perk up. I guess it'll help make people less... dead for the potion?"

George zoned out during most of Blair's explanation and pushed away the last wall of grass, revealing the pond that sat hidden from everywhere but above. The perimetre of the water had begun to freeze in a thin layer of frost but flies could be seen centring on the warmth that still rose from the deepest depths. Frogs and crickets could be heard croaking and soft splashes filled the afternoon that was diminishing into the evening.

"This is cute," Blair said, sitting down on the bank. "I can imagine you and Freddie spending hours making mud pies and poking dead things with sticks here."

"We usually sent the dead things up with fireworks, actually," he let out as he plopped down next to her. "Much more fun. They'd explode and you'd be able to see where they would land in the water."

Blair laughed and went quiet, letting the cold air to fill the space between them. December was underway and Christmas as close as ever, meaning the afternoons darkened like the late evenings. The Burrow's lights were the only thing lighting the field as the clouds blanketed the stars and moon. George brought out his wand and lit it with the Lumos charm, sticking the hilt into the mud (Blair cringed immensely at this) and using it as a miniature lamppost.

"You want to blow up a dead thing with fireworks, don't you?" Blair sighed with a smile.

"Yes," he replied giddily and jumped up from the ground, pulling a wad of Wildfire Whizbangs out from his jacket.

"You brought those along with you?"

"Of course I did."

After searching through the grass around the rim of the pond, George held up a limp frog in front of Blair's face and grinned brightly at its lack of response. He stuck one of the fireworks into the mud and tied the dead amphibian to its base, using his wand to light the match and cause a spark to eat away at the thin rope. He grabbed hold of Blair's arm and pulled her to a safe distance, eagerly waiting for the sparks and explosions to fill the sky.

A shrill pierced their ears and a line of orange shot up into the air before exploding into all colours of the rainbow. Blair and George ogled at the display and listened for the splash that would be from the frog falling into the lake. The last explosion of red left the sky before a loud 'plop!' was heard, making their heads whip towards the lake. Ripples radiated from a portion of the water near the middle and the afternoon was left with loud laughter.

"That poor thing," Blair said in between laughs. She looked over to see that George's face was vibrant with his laughter ringing through her ears. She had missed their sessions of pure joy and tricks that they hadn't done since Hogwarts. His eyes crinkled and his perfect teeth were on full display. It reminded her of the boy she fell in love with during his phase of long hair and mischievous endeavours. Although he seemed to have grown up since then, he was a still a child who couldn't help but blow things up from time to time.

"It felt good to do that again," he let out a long sigh of relief and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her against his side.

"It's kind of crude, actually," she pondered. "Sending a dead animal into an explosion without its consent."

"Eh it's a laugh, though."