A/N2: Chapter Three: Letters and Ladders is up and Chapter Four: Brothers Re-Banded is in the Q. YAY!
Mrs. Molly Weasley slowly opened her eyes and blinked a few times. Sitting up, she wondered what could have woken her. Stifling a yawn, she picked up her wand, and after muttering a small charm, the lamp beside her bed burst into flame. Facing one way, she looked at the cribs near the wall, and saw that both babies weren’t crying or murmuring in their sleep. Turning to face the other way, she saw that her husband was still snoring, his back toward her.
Turning back to the babies’ bassinets, she looked to see if the window was opened, but it wasn’t, and the big yellow eyes staring at her through the glass weren’t moving either. She removed her gaze from the window to see if the door was open before doing a double take. Slowly turning back to the window, she stared at the eyes trying to figure out what they belonged to while she tried not to have a heart attack.
As the two pairs of eyes met, a tapping sound entered the room, and realizing that it was just an owl, she finally breathed a sigh of relief. Picking her wand up again from the bedside table, she pointed it at the window, muttering, “Alohomora.” The window opened silently and the owl flew in. Rather noisily, it landed on one of the cribs, causing it to rock violently for a moment.
“No!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed in an angry whisper. “Get off the crib. If that baby wakes up, you will not be a happy owl! ”
The owl hooted and began to preen, completely ignoring her.
“I’m warning you!” she continued. “You won’t like it very much if I turn you into a butterfly, will you?”
The owl hooted in an insulted sort of way, but it did fly off the crib, slowly, and onto her shoulder.
“Thank you!” she whispered, exasperated. “Can I have my letter now?”
The owl obligingly stuck out it’s leg and Molly slowly untied and unrolled the parchment. She began to read it as the owl flew off her shoulder, her eyes darting back and forth over the page. Halfway down, her eyes grew wide. She shrieked, and fell backwards onto the bed, landing on her husband as the owl shrieked from the dresser. Mr. Weasley’s eyes flew open, and gasping for breath, he asked, “What is it Molly? What’s wrong?”
“Arthur,” she replied weakly, “we got a letter.”
“So?” he asked in a strangled voice as the full weight of his wife began to cut off his circulation.
“Read it,” she said faintly, handing it to him.
“It would help if you sat up,” he wheezed. “Thank you,” he
added as she sat up.
Putting on his glasses and sitting up, he quickly read through the letter for himself, and after a few moments, gasped. With slow deliberation, he took his glasses off and turning to his wife asked in a hushed voice, “Do you think it’s a joke?”
“A joke?” she echoed, raising her eyebrows. “No. No one would be cruel enough to joke about something like this. And frankly, she wouldn’t send us such a letter if she wasn’t absolutely sure; no trace of a doubt in her mind.”
“I guess so,” he admitted. “But if it’s true...” He trailed off.
Molly didn’t answer his unfinished thought and he picked up the letter and started to reread it as she fingered the quilt. As he read past the point he had read before, his eyes grew wider and wider. But, as he opened his mouth to say something, a huge clap of thunder drowned out all sound, and a flash of lightening lit up the sky.
Not even a moment later, loud cries rose from a bassinet. Sighing, Molly flicked her wand and muttered a charm, causing the crib to float over to the bed. Leaning over the side of the bed, she gently lifted the baby, and settling her in her arms, began to rock her softly, crooning nonsense.
Slowly, the baby’s cries died down and she closed her eyes. A look of pure contentment and bliss appeared on her face and she stuck her thumb in her mouth. She began to suck it eagerly and noisily, her mouth slowing as she fell back asleep.
Twin smiles appeared on both Arthur and Molly’s faces as they gazed lovingly at the baby.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Molly murmured.
“Positively,” Arthur agreed, as he stroked the soft red hair topping his daughter’s head. Looking thoughtfully at his wife for a moment, he continued, “You know what?”
“Hmm?”
“I give you all the credit.”
“Oh really?” Molly said, mockingly. “How very kind of you.”
“Well, just about all. I should I hope I had something to do with her?”
“Just the barest something,” she said begrudging.
“That’s all I need.”
The two smiled at each other in that knowing way only long-married couples do. Sitting in silence, they alternated between looks at the baby and loving looks at each other, enjoying what felt like a stolen moment fo peace and quiet.
Seconds later, it felt that much more stolen, as there was another roar of thunder and the baby began to scream again. Holding her breath again, Mrs. Weasley rocked her gently, hoping against hope that she would fall asleep again. Their prayers were answered as the baby settled back in her arms and they both relaxed.
But, as Molly bent to return her to the crib, she stopped, and listened at the sound of four little feet pounding their way down steps and across the hallway. The door was thrown open and two small twin faces appeared in the doorway and both babies burst into screams.
Molly leaned up and glared at the twins as she rocked the her daughter in one hand yet again, the other rocking the bassinet that held her son. “See what you’ve done?” she chided. “You’ve woken Ron up...again.”
“Don’t yell at us,” said one of the twins.
“Yeah ” piped up the other. “It isn’t our fault ”
“Oh?” their father said. “Whose fault is it?”
“The thunder’s,” they said together, as if that explained it all.
“The thunder’s?” Mr. Weasley repeated, one eye raised.
“Uh huh.”
“How?” Molly asked.
“Well, the thunder was very loud,” said one twin.
“And very scary“” continued his brother.
“And we were almost scared“”
“But we weren’t“”
“You weren’t?” Molly asked in mock disbelief.
“Nope.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Anyway,” continued the other twin, “we came in here“”
“To see if you and Ron and Gin“Gin“” His face screwed up as he tried to get his mouth around the name.
“Ginny,” his mother supplied as she passed the child in question to her husband. Ron had pulled himself up and had his arms stretched out, crying.
"Up!" he commanded.
“Right,” the twin said, smiling. “We came to see if you were scared.”
"UP!" Ron yelled.
“How kind of you,” Mr. Weasley said, a smile playing on his lips as Molly lifted Ron out. He settled against her, sniffling as he stuck his thumb into his mouth.
“Thanks!” the twins chorused.
Mr. Weasley looked at them thoughtfully. “Would the two of you like to stay in here and protect the babies, your mother and me?”
The twins nodded their heads solemnly.
“So what are you waiting for?” he asked, patting the bed with a free hand. “Come on.”
The twins’s faces lit up and they ran towards the bed, jumping on and burying themselves under the quilt, settling themselves between their parents and emerging on the other side, faces beaming.
The twin lying closest to Mrs. Weasley looked up at Ron who now had his eyes closed and asked, wrinkling his nose, “Why’s he so ugly?”
“He isn’t ugly Fred!” Molly said, defensive.
“Yes he is!” the other said eagerly. “He looks like a raisin!”
“George!” his mother said sharply as the twins burst into peals of hysterical giggles.
“He isn’t ugly,” she said again.
Fred turned around to face George and whispered loudly in his ear, “She’s bonkers!”
“Definitely,” George agreed, nodding his head solemnly.
“Ginny’s beautiful,” Fred said wisely, staring down at his sleeping baby sister.
George nodded. “Uh huh. But Ron looks like a raisin.
Definitely a raisin.”
Arthur stifled a laugh as Molly said in a commanding tone, “If you’re in here, you have to go to sleep.”
“So if we’re not here...we don’t have to go to sleep?” George asked.
His mother glared in answer and he squeaked as both he and Fred buried themselves under the cover again so that only the tops of their red heads stuck out.
After a few more blessed moments of silence, George stuck his head out. “Where’s Percy?”
Within seconds, his question was answered. As the next bolt of lightening flashed, footsteps could be heard scurrying across the floor, stopping behind the now closed door. Everyone in the bedroom focused his or her attention on the door. It slowly opened about five inches and two unsure eyes appeared in the crack.
“‘Lo Percy,” Fred said, positively gleeful.
“Hello Fred.”
“Hello Percy,” Molly said kindly.
“Hello Mum,” he answered.
“Would you like to join us?” she asked.
“No thank you,” he said airily.
“Come on Percy!” Fred called.
“Yeah!” continued George. “We won’t bite. At least, not right
away!” he added wickedly, giggling again.
“Guess what else!” Fred shouted.
“What?” Percy asked.
“We’re all saying what we think Ron looks like!”
“And I think he looks like a raisin!” George exclaimed, collapsing into giggles again.
Percy smiled slightly, but then frowned. “But there isn’t any room.”
“So we’ll make some,” Mr. Weasley said. “Come on boys,” he continued, patting his lap. “Move over.”
“Kay!” the twins yelled, scrambling onto their father’s lap as he held Ginny in front of himself. “Now there’s room for Percy! ”
Slowly, Percy approached the bed and crawled on in between his parents. As he got comfortable, he noticed the letter teetering on the edge of the bed. He made a grab for it. “What’s this?”
“It’s a letter dear,” Mrs. Weasley answered, taking it from him.
“What’s it about?”
“I’ll tell you when Bill and Charlie come,” she said as Arthur passed Ginny to her over the twins’ heads.
“When are they coming?” Fred asked, turning to his father.
“Oh, I imagine as soon as they get tired of being in there by themselves and listening to us have fun ” he answered, suddenly grabbing Fred and tickling him.
“Arthur!” Molly exclaimed, angry, over Fred’s giggles. “You’ll wake up the babies!”
“So?” George asked.
“So they’ll be cranky tomorrow.”
“So?’ Fred asked, still breathing heavily, an insane smile on his face.
“So I’ll have to deal with them,” Molly said irritably.
“So put them in their crib and send them as far away from the bed as possible,” Percy said, matter-of-fact.
“Yeah!” exclaimed the twins.
“Yeah,” Arthur echoed. “Listen to the kids. They know what they’re talking about.”
Sighing, Molly leaned over to place Ron in the bassinet for the umpteenth time that night. “What am I going to do with
you kids?”
“You’ll love us!” George supplied with almost four-year old logic.
“And hug us,” Percy added.
“And tickle us to death!” Fred exclaimed happily before Arthur tickled him again, making him shriek.
“And what about us?” came an insulted voice from the door.
“Oh,” Molly said mildly after glancing at the door to see her two eldest sons leaning against the sides of the door, arms crossed over their chests. “You’re here. I was wondering when you two would show up.”
“Bill and Charlie are here! Bill and Charlie are here!” the twins sang, jumping on the bed.
“You look happy to see us,” the one on the right said, smiling.
“They should be,” Percy said darkly, as George had just narrowly missed jumping on his head. “Mum said she’d tell us what the letter was about when you came.”
“What letter?” the one on the left asked.
“Well Charlie,” Percy said sarcastically, “if you’d been here, we would know, wouldn’t we? So maybe if you come in now, she’d actually tell us.”
“Right!” Fred shouted, taking a flying leap off the bed and running to his brothers. Grabbing one of Bill’s hands, he began to pull him to the bed. Unfortunately, as his ten-year-old brother was just a little too heavy for his barely four-year-old self to pull, he didn’t budge. “Come on, Bill, come to bed ” he whined.
“Oh no,” Bill said, putting his hands up as if to defend himself. “I think I’m just a little too old to be getting in to bed with my parents.”
“Charlie?” Fred asked, turning to the next brother, a pleading look in his eyes.
“Sorry.”
“George,” Fred said, turning back to the bed, the saddest look on his face, “Bill and Charlie don’t love us anymore.”
“They don’t?” George asked. His face fell as a look of both shock and anger appeared on Bill and Charlie’s faces.
“Nope,” Fred answered.
“That’s not true ” Bill said, indignant, as the two sets of the twins’s eyes became watery and their lips began to quiver.
“Don’t cry,” Charlie said as he bent down, matching his height to Fred’s.
“We love you very much,” Bill continued, putting his arm around Fred’s shoulders.
“Very much in fact,” Charlie added.
“No you don’t,” Fred argued, shaking his head.
“Yes, we do, really,” Bill said eagerly.
“But if you did, you would come in!” George wailed.
“But there isn’t even room!” Charlie protested, looking up at
the already bursting bed.
“Mum will make room!” George exclaimed.
The two looked at each other, and then, shrugging their shoulders, said, “Fine.”
Mrs. Weasley picked up her wand again and tapped the bed with it. Instantly, it expanded five feet. Dragging Bill and
Charlie by one hand each, Fred led them to it. Fred and Bill crawled in next to their mother and Charlie headed to their father.
As Bill lifted the cover to get under it, he suddenly snapped his fingers. “I just remembered why we came here in the first place. There are dozens and dozens of owls outside our window.”
“Did you let them in?” Mr. Weasley asked.
“No.”
“Why not?” Mrs. Weasley asked, her eyes flashing. “It’s pouring out there ”
“Exactly,” Bill said. “It’s pouring and our beds just happen to be right under the windows. If we would’ve let them in, our beds would have gotten soaked. And we didn’t recognize any of them.”
“Oh Bill! You lead every one of those owls down to the kitchen, take their letters and dry them off. And while you’re at it, light a fire and give them something to eat. And take the one in here too,” she added, indicating the owl still perched on the dresser, its head tucked under its wing.
“Why can’t Charlie do it?” Bill whined.
“Because I asked you to do it!” Molly said, sounding appalled.
“I’ll do it Mum!” Charlie exclaimed, jumping out of the bed. “Please?”
“Yeah Mum,” Bill added, a smile on his face. “Please?”
“Fine,” she sighed and Charlie ran from the room. “You forgot one!” she yelled after him. They heard him stop short and turn around to race back. He appeared in the doorway, his face flushed. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly, walking back into the room. Everyone watched as he slowly walked over to the dresser and gently pet the owl. “Come on,” he coaxed it. “Wake up sleepyhead.”
The owl lifted its head and blinked a few times. “Come on,” Charlie repeated softly, slowly putting his arm out to it. “You don’t have to be scared.” The owl hooted tiredly and then hopped on the outstretched arm, immediately sticking its head back beneath its wing. Smiling broadly, Charlie walked from the room and vanished.
“Mum?” Bill asked after Charlie’s footsteps could no longer be heard.
“Yes dear?”
“What’s this?”
“Oh!” she exclaimed, grabbing the letter before he could read it. “I’d nearly forgotten about that ”
“But what is it?”
“It’s a very important letter that is quite relevant to you.”
“My Hogwarts letter?” he asked excitedly.
“No dear. I’m sorry,” she added as his face fell. “You won't be getting that for a few month yet. It’s a different kind of important.”
“About what?”
“I’ll tell you all together when Charlie comes back.”
“Is it about You-Know-Who?” Bill asked, with a daring that surprised even himself.
“I said I’d tell you when Charlie comes and I will,” she snapped. “Have some patience.”
“Sorry,” Bill said, hanging his head.
“Mum?” Percy said, staring at her in deep concentration.
“Yes dear?” she asked, absently fingering the quilt.
“Are you okay?”
“What?” she asked, distracted. “Oh. Yes. I’m fine love.”
“Daddy?” Fred said, pulling on his father’s pajama sleeve.
“Hmm?”
“Mummy’s lying, right?”
“In a way,” he answered.
“Arthur!” Molly exclaimed.
“Yes dear?” he said mildly.
“I can’t believe you!”
“Can’t believe what about me?”
“That you said that!”
“Oh, that you were lying?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Well, why should we lie to them? They deserve the truth and just because you won’t give it them doesn’t mean I shouldn’t either. Besides,” he continued, ignoring the expression on her face, “kids know more than adults give them credit for. They’d have figured it out on their own anyway.”
Molly stared at her husband in shock. So did the children, they had never, ever seen their father stand up to their mother before. Molly opened her mouth to say something, but Bill beat her to it. Looking at his father with a sense of awe he had never felt before, he simply said, “Wow Dad.”
“Bill!” Molly exclaimed.
“Sorry,” he said, hanging his head again, but a smile twitched on his lips.
“Arthur Weasley,” Molly started in a very no-nonsense tone. “You“”
Charlie chose that moment to run back into the room and drop about thirty letters on the bed.
“Charlie, what is all this?” Arthur asked.
“The letters,” he said simply, settling himself in next to his brothers.
In shock, both Molly and Arthur each picked up a handful of the damp letters and began to read through them as Charlie gave his brothers a detailed account of what had happened downstairs.
“There were close to thirty owls,” he said. “And one was so big that it didn’t fit through the window; I had to open the door to let it in!”
“Wow!” the twins said together in hushed and awed voices.
“Was it as big as us?” Fred asked.
“Nope,” Charlie answered. “Bigger!”
Bill snorted and Charlie turned to him, defensive. “You don’t believe me? Come downstairs and I’ll show you!”
“It’s okay,” Bill said, putting his hands up. “Don’t worry. I believe you!”
“We’ll come with you!” the twins said.
“Mum, can we go see it?” George asked.
“No,” she said, biting her lip as she read.
“Why not?” Fred whined.
“Because, if I know you two, and I should think that you do, you’ll both get yourselves hurt,” the reply came.
“We’ll go with Charlie,” George said.
“No,” she said again.
“Why?” the twins whined together, angry.
“Because your father and I have something to tell you,” she said tiredly as both she and Arthur put down the letters they were reading. The children suddenly all fell silent.
“What’s wrong?” Bill asked, voicing as the oldest, what they all wanted to know.
“Well,” Mrs. Weasley said, “it has to do with You-Know-Who.”
Fred, George and Percy each grabbed one of their father’s hands in fright.
“Is He coming here?” George squeaked, cowering beneath the cover.
“No,” Arthur said slowly. “I don’t think he’s going anywhere anytime soon.”
“What?” Bill said, staring at his father.
“Well...according to these letters...He’s dead. Vanished at least.”
“He’s“what?” Charlie said. “How?”
“Well, according to these letters, He went to someone’s house to kill them.”
George’s bottom lip began to quiver and he, Fred and Percy tightened their grips on their father’s sleeve.
“What happened?” Bill asked quietly.
“He killed“He killed the father of the house,” Mrs. Weasley stammered. “Then he killed the mother“” She stopped suddenly, a tear rolling down her cheek as her children stared at her in shock and horror. Mothers were not supposed to cry. Their mother was not supposed to cry.
“And then,” Arthur continued, “He set his eyes on the one-year-old baby“”
“He killed a baby?” Charlie interrupted, his voice heavy with disgust.
“No“He tried to,” his mother said angrily. “When he tried to curse the boy, the spell backfired and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was killed.”
“He’s dead?” Fred asked meekly, loosening his grip.
“We think so.”
“Was the baby like Ron or-” Percy started to ask.
“Exactly like Ron,” his mother answered. “Younger, actually.”
“Whose house did he go to?” Charlie asked.
“The Potter’s. James and Lily Potter,” Mr. Weasley answered.
“Oh,” Charlie said quietly, not recognizing the name.
“What was the baby’s name?” Bill asked.
“Harry.”
“He’s gonna be famous, isn’t he?” George asked.
“Probably; his being the only person to survive an attack from You-Know-Who and all.”
“What’s going to happen to him?” Percy asked.
“The letters say that he’ll probably go live with his mother’s sister and her husband.”
“I feel so bad for them,” Bill said, sad.
“Why?”
“Well, ‘cuz her sister is dead,” Charlie answered for Bill,
looking at his father as if he was stupid.
“On the contrary,” came the reply. “Harry’s aunt and uncle are two very horrible Muggles who hate anything out of what they consider to be ordinary, like magic. If anything,” he continued sadly, “they’ll be annoyed that they have to take him in.”
“He can live with us!” Fred exclaimed.
“If only it was that easy,” Mrs. Weasley said, smiling cheerlessly. “Besides, we don’t have any room.”
“So? Get rid of Percy!” George suggested.
“Excuse you!” Percy exclaimed, indignant. “Why don’t we get rid of one of you? We don’t need two of your face“one is more than enough!”
“But ours are prettier than yours,” George said, sticking his tongue out at Percy.
“Nuh uh.”
“Uh huh,” Fred said, joining in.
“Nuh uh!”
“Uh huh!” Fred said stubbornly.
“Nuh“” Percy started.
“Boys!” Molly yelled as Bill and Charlie laughed.
“Do you want to go back to your own beds?” their father asked.
“No,” the three boys said together.
“Good. In that case,” he continued, “settle down. It’s very late and I’m sure tomorrow will be a very long day.”
“But I’m not tired,” Fred whined.
“Oh, yes you are,” Mrs. Weasley said.
“No, I’m not Mum,” Fred protested. “I’m wide awake.”
“Do you want me to make you tired?” she threatened.
“No,” he said, meek.
“Good. Now sleep.”
“Kay,” he squeaked, and buried himself under the cover.
“Me and Charlie are going to bed,” Bill said, rising.
“Fine,” Mr. Weasley said. “But I don’t want you boys staying up much later. And Charlie?” he continued as they walked to the bed.
“Hmm?”
“If I find out that you’ve been downstairs to play with any of the owls in the morning before anyone older than fifteen is up, you’re going to be in massive trouble.”
“But“”
“Charlie,” his father warned.
“Kay,” he said reluctantly.
“Goodnight boys,” the Weasleys said together.
“G’night Mum, Dad,” they said together, leaving the room.
“Finally! Sleep!” Molly exclaimed.
“Not for long though,” Arthur said, giving her a knowing
look. She groaned and rolled her eyes in answer as he put one arm around Fred and the other around Percy. Molly pulled George close to her and fell asleep.
Molly did not get all the sleep she was counting on that night. “Because,” as Arthur explained to her, “hundreds more owls will be coming in and the Ministry will need help covering and coping with all the over-excited wizards who’ll be doing magic in front of Muggles.” And, as owls and rumors alike went flying through the country about what happened that night at the home of the Potter’s at Godric’s Hollow, the truth finally came out.
As the story went, You-Know-Who had arrived at the Potter’s home late that Halloween night on the advice of a very ‘close’ friend of theirs, intending to kill them. James attempted to hold Him off, in order to give Lily time to escape with Harry. However, Lily refused to leave without him. Her loyalty was wasted unfortunately, because James was killed instantly and she was killed minutes later, protecting her only son.
And then He had turned on poor defenseless Harry, intending to make a clean job of it, everyone supposed. Of course, those who knew a little more, knew that it was because of a prophecy predicting Harry’s defeat of the Dark Lord. And what better time to get rid of your fated enemy then when he’s not old enough to hold a wand? But He couldn’t kill the baby; the deadly and horrible curse that He had used to murder hundreds of the most skilled wizards and witches of the time, could not kill Harry. And no one knew why. What they did know was that the curse rebounded on You-Know-Who, killing him instantly and destroying the house.
Within minutes, Hagrid, the groundskeeper at Hogwarts and a close friend of the Potters (as well as the Weasleys), arrived on the scene to collect Harry. He was to bring him to his aunt and uncle in Surrey, where he was destined to spend the next ten years alone, miserable, friendless and with no real contact to the wizarding world. But before Hagrid had the chance to leave, Harry’s godfather and James’s best friend, Sirius Black appeared on his flying motorcycle and requested to be allowed to take Harry instead. It was his duty as godfather after all, wasn’t it?
But Hagrid denied the request and apologized, saying that he had his orders from Dumbledore and he was to bring Harry to Surrey. Then Siruis did something, that at the time, appeared very strange: he got off his motorbike and told Hagrid to take it, saying very sadly that he wouldn’t need it anymore“which was odd, because he loved that bike“and vanished.
But the most surprising news didn’t come till next morning. Sirius was in a crowded Muggle marketplace, when Peter Pettigrew (another one of James’s four close friends, the other being Remus Lupin) cornered him in a duel. No one knew why he did it. Peter should have known, and probably did know, that Sirius was bigger, stronger and better at dueling than himself. But everyone speculated, as people will, and the most obvious reason for it was that he was maddened by grief.
It all happened very quickly, and the only witnesses were Muggles. While all their accounts had slight variations, the basic idea was the same. As one man put it to Arthur before he had his memory cleaned: “The little guy (Peter) cornered the big guy (Sirius) in the alley, and crying madly, shouted that he (Sirius) ‘had betrayed James and Lily’ while also claiming that ‘he had as good as well had killed them himself.’ As the little guy opened his mouth (they could only assume it was to continue screaming), the big guy pulled out a long stick (his wand) said something, and a bright green light poured from it, blowing the little guy to pieces, killing thirteen other people, and destroying the street.”
Sadly, the largest piece of Peter that could be found was his second finger, which was sent home to his mother in a box with an Order of Merlin. Sirius was taken away to spend the rest of his days in Azkaban, laughing like a madman.
At the end, Harry did go to live with his aunt and uncle in Surrey, while, in the days that followed, hundreds of witches and wizards raised their glasses to toast, in hushed voices, ‘The boy who lived.’
And through it all, Ron slept.