The attic was full of rubbish. His parents really had never thrown anything away. There were piles and piles of books that were battered and wore from excessive reading. Potions kits, old robes and what appeared to be very old Quidditch kit were haphazardly stuffed in boxes full of other random junk. The task of sorting it all out was not going to be pleasant.
Peter looked down at the pile of boxes around him. They were nearly up to waist. His brothers were dotted around the attic sifting through boxes of junk and objects their parents had decided to keep.
With a reluctant sigh he opened the first box, trying not to cough to loudly as dust came billowing up into his face like a whirlwind. Why hadn't his mother cleaned this place out every couple of years? She'd kept the rest of the house tidy, why not this part of the house. The box was full of old robes, some from his days at Hogwarts, some from his sibling's days at the school, all of them old and crumpled. He'd thought that they'd gone to charity after he'd worn his robes; obviously his mother had forgotten to take them to the shop.
"Look at this!" He looked around to see Nicholas holding up a thick folder crammed of full of bits of paper.
"What on earth is that?" Nicholas shrugged, laying the folder out on his lap, pulling it open with a slightly ominous creak.
The boys gathered round him, peering over his shoulders to get a better look.
"That's a Hogwarts letter." Peter glanced across at his younger brother, smiling slightly as Henry rolled his eyes. Henry was the eldest of the four boys, then it was Peter then Nicholas and finally Richard.
"We do know Richard, we all got one."
"It's Dad's one though," Peter pointed to the name printed at the top of the letter. "Dumbledore was headmaster in those days. I bet he was not as scary as McGonagall was as Headmistress." They all let out small nervous laughs. Each of them could remember getting into trouble with the old Head Mistress of Hogwarts at some point in their time at Hogwarts. Richard remembers his with a shudder. He'd been caught sneaking around the corridors trying to find his cat only to discover that the cat he'd been running after had been Professor McGonagall in her animagus form.
"An easy mistake to have made Rich," Henry chuckled, nudging his brother. The youngest brother just shook his head.
"This must be all of their memories."
"But they have the pensive for that."
Peter raised an eyebrow at Nicholas as if to say 'this is our parents were talking about'. "You know how mum likes to keep things simple, and Dad loves doing things the Muggle way. Remember that time we went camping," Henry glared him before he could go any further, but all of them were grinning at the memory of it.
"What else is in there?" Nicholas flipped through a few pages, pausing to show his bothers newspaper cuttings and pictures their parents had kept. There were articles from the Prophet and the muggle newspapers. Wedding announcements, pages on the war, chocolate frog cards featuring their parents smiling faces.
"Who are they?" Nicholas had stopped at a large folded photograph showing various people, some looking at the camera, some turned to the people next to them, but all were in rather formal clothes, at some sort of party, and in the middle was their parents, grinning for the camera, their arms caught in a wave.
"The Order, DA and other guests taken by P. Granger at H and C's wedding." Peter smiled. His parent's wedding reception. There were the Weasleys unmistakable with their red hair, Uncle Bill with his scars, Uncle Charlie caught looking at Aunt Janet, the traditional blush in his ears as she grinned back at him. Uncles Fred and George up to no good, as normal, Uncle Percy telling them off and Uncle Ron looking at their mother with a sad look in his eyes while Aunt Ginny was just visible with Uncle Harry.
"I don't recognize him." Peter pointed to a tall man with thick black hair. He was stood separate from the group.
"I don't know who that is. Possibly that guy Dad works with, Terry Boot I think his name was?" Richard nodded.
"I know him, his son has just applied to my department. Nice lad."
"You set him up with Alice then, calm her down a bit." Richard shook his head.
"I'm not introducing the poor boy to Alice, he'll die." Henry laughed, nodding. His niece was quite a scary person to be around, especially is she was playing cricket. Unlike Arthur Weasley, Alice's muggle interest was more based on the fact that she went to muggle university and now worked for the auror department as a liaison with the police department.
"I've found Henry playing with the cooking set!"
There was the sound of a door closing downstairs and the four boys looked up, startled. They hadn't realised how long they'd been looking through the book.
"Boys?"
"Up in the attic mother!"
She came up the ladder, smiling as she was greeted by the sight of old familiar school books, robes, potions kits, her husband's expanse of junk.
"I'd have thought you'd be finished by now." Henry shook his head, taking the folder from Nicholas, looking down at the cover for a moment.
"We got distracted." He held out the folder for her to see.
Tears began to creep into her eyes as she looked at the thick heavy folder. She'd not seen that in years. All her memories, her husband's memories, the boy's memories as well, when they'd been small children always following her around and asking her question after question, putting each other up to ask the next one.
"I thought your father had last that." Peter shook his head.
"Dad wouldn't lose something like that." She smiled at them, taking the folder from her eldest son, smoothing down the old cover, almost laughing through her tears.
"Well, he'll be pleased when I show him this, now get back to work."
They nodded, turning back to the boxes.
Hermione set the folder of the kitchen table, opening it to a random page, giggling at the old articles and photos that were stored in there.
Cedric laughed as well when he saw it and the pair of them sat with the folder in front of them remembering all that had happened to them while their four grown up boys cleared out the attic for their parents, making space for a new family to hold memories in their old little house.