I'm not JK Rowling. It would be cool if I was, but I'm not. I own nothing but the plot:) And please review! I'll try to update soon, later chapters will definitely be darker.

Arthur Weasley had never been happier. He decided this as he looked around the kitchen on this particular wintery Friday evening at the burrow. There was a merry fire, a delicious meal, and many of the people he loved were surrounding him. He looked over to his wife, catching her pretty brown eyes and grinning. He knew she was observing the scene around them too. Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and George all sat at the table, laughing. Angelina and the twins had gone home, as it was well past the childrens' bedtime. George had decided to stay for a while. After all, George hated to miss a celebration, and this was indeed a celebration. Both Hermione and Ginny were pregnant, and everyone was thrilled. They had known for few weeks, but this was Molly's "Official Celebration Dinner". Arthur chuckled, knowing that she would have found an excuse for a family dinner anyway. They had them at least twice a week.

Hermione was three months along, while Ginny was two months. You really couldn't tell either of them were pregnant. In fact, they were hardly showing at all, but Arthur thought they were both glowing and even more beautiful than usual. Currently, Ron and Harry were fake arguing about whose son would be better at quidditch, while Hermione and Ginny laughed and insisted that they could just as easily have daughters. Arthur was so very proud. The war had ended six years ago, and now the trio was 24 and Ginny 23. Harry and Ron were respected aurors and Hermione and Ginny both loved their jobs as well. The years had treated them well, and he was so happy that they were starting the next chapter; raising families. The conversation had turned to the topic of how beautifully convenient it was that they should be pregnant together. "They'll be practically like twins!" George exclaimed. "After all, twins run in the family." As everyone laughed, a loud noise interrupted from outside.

All seven Weasleys whipped their heads toward the door. The four men sprang up, drawing their wands and heading toward it. George got their first. He looked out the window and his breathing sped up. Fear blossomed in Arthur's stomach.

"What is it George?" He demanded.

"Rowl's son. And others."

Arthur felt his face grow pale. Though Voldemort had died in the war, not all of his followers had. On a few occasions immediately after the war, some remaining Death Eaters had come to the burrow trying to finish what their leader began. Fortunately they were either very unorganized or extremely drunk, therefore relatively easy to capture as send off to Azkaban. After those instances, Arthur had set permanent protective spells around the burrow, not allowing anyone to apparate in or out of the property. Somehow, these Death Eaters had broken in. They wanted something. And they wanted it badly.

Suddenly, Arthur knew.

"Molly." He forced his voice to be calm though terror was ripping into him. "Take Hermione and Ginny out to the shed. There's a portkey there. It will take you to shell cottage. Hurry! And make sure you aren't seen."

Arthur looked at his pale wife, and knew she understood. Hermione and Ginny stood up shakily. It was clear that they were terrified to leave their husbands, but knew thet needed to protect their unborn children. Ginny ran to Harry throwing her arms around his neck and whispering something into his ear. Hermione looked at Ron with glistening eyes. Arthur thought his heart, the same that had been so happy moments before, was going to break.

"Ron." She whispered, reaching out to him. He crossed to her quickly, cupping her face in his hands.

"Please. Stay safe. Please." She pleaded.

"I will. You stay safe. Do whatever my mother says... I love you." He looked into her eyes, kissed her quickly, and turned back to the door. Molly grabbed Ginny and Hermione's hands.

"Come on dears, let's go. Hurry now."

Arthur watched the three most important women in his life hurry down the hallway. Ginny looked over her shoulder, and that was the last thing he saw before they vanished around the corner. His sons were breathing hard, wands pointed at the door.

"All right, boys." He said. "Here we go." With a deep breath he threw the door open and led the three brave young men behind him into the cold night,