Notes: In this chapter, Ginny is 8, Ron is 10, Fred and George are 12, Percy is 13, Charlie is 17, and Bill is 19.
It was the height of summer. The sun bore down relentlessly on Ottery St. Catchpole, shedding plentiful light on the village and the surrounding area. Several houses dotted the landscape, and it seemed that the farther they were from the village, the odder they looked. Only a few hills away from a castle-like house sat a tall, leaning home brimming with life.
"I can fly just as well as Ron!" Ginny yelled.
"Indoor voice, Ginny!" her mother called from the next room.
Fred pushed the door open and jumped outside; George and Ron followed, and Ginny tagged along, running to keep up.
"How d'you know?" Fred asked over his shoulder.
"You've never even flown!" George added.
A frown crossed Ginny's features, but she didn't reply.
"Charlie!" George yelled toward the chicken coop. "Charlie, come play a game!"
A red-haired young man poked his head out of the coop. "Yeah, all right, one second."
"See!" said Fred, turning to face Ginny. "Charlie makes the numbers even, you can't play."
Ginny pouted. "What about Percy?"
Fred, George, and Ron burst out laughing together, and Ginny's face turned red.
"Percy's revising for O.W.L.s," said George mockingly.
Ginny stomped her foot and turned the face the Burrow. "Percy!" she yelled as loudly as she could. "Percy, Percy, Percy!"
A window opened on the third floor. "What?" said a peevish voice, and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses and a head of red hair appeared.
"Come play!" Ginny begged.
Percy sighed. "Ginny, I must do homework. Fourth year is a very important—"
"BOO!" Fred and George drowned him out, and Ron eagerly joined in. Percy turned red and closed his window.
Charlie left the coop for the broomshed and came back carrying four battered broomsticks. He passed them out to his younger brothers and said to Ginny, "Next time, I promise."
Ginny tried to smile. He said that every time.
"You're too young, Ginny," Ron told her.
Now she became indignant. "I'm almost nine years old!" she said, putting her hands on her hips like her mother did when angered. "You've been playing with Fred and George since you were eight!"
Ron apparently couldn't think of an answer, and turned to run and catch up with his brothers running toward the orchard.
Ginny sighed and sat down on the ground. Clearly today was going to be just like every other day at the Burrow: lonely.
"BOYS, YOU COME BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!"
Ginny was on her feet in an instant, startled. The sound was amazingly loud. Turning around, she understood: There stood Molly Weasley in the doorway, her wand turned to her throat, a terrified look in her eyes as she watched her sons wander out of sight.
The boys returned fairly quickly, Fred and George dragging their feet and moaning a little. Ginny was at her mother's side in an instant, though, holding her hand. Something was wrong.
"Your father and Bill are coming home from work early," Mrs. Weasley began, "and we have things to do." She looked around at them all as though mentally counting, then turned her gaze to the third-floor window. "Percy Weasley, get down here this instant!"
Percy appeared a moment later, his hand stained with ink and looking flustered.
"Now, Charlie, you wait at the gate for Bill. Percy, collect the chickens, make sure they're safely out of the way. The rest of you—just go upstairs to your rooms and don't come down."
Ron bolted upstairs first, but George slowed a little to take Ginny's hand to lead her up the stairs. They stopped on the first floor landing, but Ginny refused to release her brother's hand.
"Oi, George, what's the hold-up?" asked Fred from his position halfway to the second floor.
"There's this thing stuck to my hand!" George called up. "I can't get it off, I think I'll have to drag it upstairs with me!"
And Ginny happily tagged along.
The twins' room was bright and cheerful, except for the large burn marks on most of the furniture. The bookshelf was in decent shape, though, and Ginny pulled out her favorite book, a listing of hexes, to make herself look occupied. Fred and George liked Ginny well enough, but they also liked to keep important things to themselves.
Now they both stood at the window, staring down at the front gate as though waiting for something extraordinary to happen.
"Another raid?" Fred wondered.
"Not so soon," said George dismissively.
"They aren't—aren't firing Dad?" Fred gulped.
"No, they can't!" said George, sounding a little panicked. "But wait—what's that got to do with Bill?"
"Maybe Lestrange is coming over himself!"
Ginny listened harder upon hearing the Minister's name.
"Yeah!" agreed George. "And, I dunno, maybe they need a Gringotts contact or something—"
"But Lestrange would have Gringotts ties, wouldn't he? Being Minister and all?"
"Mind you, Mum and Dad have looked weird lately."
"I thought it was about the raid."
"But the raid went all right, didn't it?" said George. "We're used to those by now, anyway. This was something serious."
"Wait!" said Fred suddenly. "That's Bill, isn't it? What's—why—?"
Ginny couldn't stand it. She dropped the book and ran to look as well.
Bill had appeared over the hill and he was leading—was that right? Bill was leading three cows and a goat along. Charlie was running out to lend a hand, and Percy followed quickly.
"What the hell…" murmured Fred.
"Wow," whispered Ginny.
"Is this some new anti-Ministry plot?" said George, confused. "Are we now supplying milk and cheese for the Order, as well as eggs?"
"We're going to lead a heifer revolt," Fred joked. "I can see the headlines now—Cows storm Ministry of Magic, trample Lestrange."
The small herd now passed through the gates of the Burrow and the boys led the animals out of sight toward the back of the house.
"Let's go down to your room, Ginny," said George suddenly. He hoisted her up in his arms, her limbs squirming slightly as he carried her down the stairs and kicked open her door. Ginny's window looked out at the chicken coop, which was now dwarfed by a large wooden structure—and Ginny realized it was for the cows and goat to stay in.
"Weird," breathed George, setting Ginny down on the window seat.
"I can't stand this, I'm going to figure out what this is about," said Fred, and he stole out of the room without a second glance.
George shook his head. "He's going to give Mum a heart attack if she catches him."
Fred was back in the room in less than a minute. He closed the door behind him and brandished the Daily Prophet at them. "Look at this."
George snatched it up, then held it low enough so that Ginny could see too.
TRAGEDY FOR THE MALFOY FAMILY the headline declared. A photo of a middle-aged blond couple accompanied the lengthy article, which seemed to cover the whole page.
"'Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were found dead in their home'—so what?" said George angrily. "This hasn't got anything to do with us, Fred, it can't."
"So what?" said Fred incredulously. "This is huge! The Malfoys were right in league with You-Know-Who, and then stepped right up alongside the Lestranges when Dumbledore finished him off—they've practically run the Ministry with their gold for the past three years—this is great news for our side!"
"Hmm," was all George would say as he scanned the rest of the article. "Wish we didn't have to wait for the Quibbler."
"Why do we have to wait?" asked Ginny curiously.
"The point of the Quibbler is to know what the Prophet says the news is and to interpret it for those of us who know better," Fred said wisely. "We'll get a copy tonight and see how the Malfoys really died."
"Murdered by Muggle-borns?" scoffed George, still scanning the paper. "Yeah, right…"
"Yeah, but—but—" Ginny was struggling to keep up. "What's that got to do with cows?"
The twins both looked toward the window, where they could see Charlie coaxing the goat into its stall. "No idea."
Ginny ran up to the window and pressed her nose against the glass. Charlie was now closing the gate on the goat, but now looked up toward the back door of the Burrow, as though being called. He and Bill both jogged out of sight to the door, Percy not far behind. Soon enough, Ginny heard their footsteps crashing up the stairs. Fred and George flew to the door and cracked it open, and soon Charlie and Percy were inside Ginny's small bedroom as well.
"What's happened?" cried Ginny.
"Keep it down, Gin," George warned, but he too looked eagerly to his older brothers.
"We're hiring a stable boy!" said Percy.
"What's a stable boy?" asked Ginny, tugging on George's sleeve.
Charlie sat down and settled himself comfortably against the door. "We're hiring a boy to help with the cows," he said. "That's all a stable boy's good for."
"We're hiring someone…" began George.
"…to do our chores for us?" finished Fred incredulously.
"Wouldn't it just save us loads of trouble if we didn't get cows in the first place?" said George.
The door handle twisted and everyone jumped; Charlie scrambled away quickly, and Bill pushed the door open slowly.
"Cor, Bill," breathed Fred. "I thought you were Mum!"
Bill grinned and stepped back to allow Ron into the room as well. "Had to get Ronnie."
Ron ran right to Ginny and Bill closed the door behind him.
"Well?"
Bill looked around at the expectant faces and sighed.
"Listen, it's a lot of Order business and—"
"Please, Bill?" begged Ginny.
"The Order of the Phoenix is more important than our curiosity right now," said Bill with such seriousness that his siblings visibly froze. "Right now, the most important thing to know is that we have had these cows, and the goat, for a month already. We've been swamped trying to take care of them all, along with our chickens and vegetable garden. It's too much."
"But—" Ginny began, confused. "But why does that help the Order? That's lying about cows—how—"
Bill crossed the room and picked Ginny up before sitting on her bed, the girl sitting in his lap. "We're getting a boy to work for us," he said to her, and everyone listened. "There's too much work for us all to do, so we're hiring a boy to tend the animals."
Another set of footsteps sounded up the stairs, and before they could react, the door was cracked open once more. And this time, it was Mum. She seemed unsurprised to see them all huddled inside together.
"Bill?" she said expectantly, and he nodded once. She sighed and rubbed her temples. "What a day."
"What's going on, Mum?" Ginny asked boldly.
"Bill's already told you everything," she said. "Now, we're having dinner in an hour or so, and until then I want everyone to stay inside. Bill, if you could help us…?"
The next hour passed painfully slowly. When their mother finally called them for dinner, it was a stampede down the stairs. Ginny was the last one down.
Everything looked normal, which surprised her at first; after all the fuss of the afternoon, she hadn't known what to expect to find down here. The only things out of place were Order members Eric Munch and Emmeline Vance, who smiled at her before rushing out the door. Ginny wondered how many Order members had been there that day.
The dining room looked much the same. There was her father, looking exhausted for a hard day's work. Her mother was setting large dishes in the middle of the table. But her brothers hadn't yet taken seats; they were grouped in the corner, staring at something that Ginny couldn't see, something located behind her father's weary form.
She ran to Ron and tried to lift herself up by his shoulders to see. He crouched a little and she promptly jumped on his back.
There was a boy sitting at the table. He was very slight, maybe a year older than she was, but petite. He was strikingly pale with blond hair and pointy features. He looked bored.
"Who is that?" she whispered loudly. The boy's eyes darted over to her, but he immediately went back to staring across the room.
"Well, sit down," Mrs. Weasley said briskly as she finished setting the places. She stood back and looked to her children, who obligingly approached the table, all still staring at the blond boy.
"He's in my seat," Fred complained, taking the seat next to him instead.
"Now you're in my seat," George said.
"Pull up that other chair, Georgie," Mrs. Weasley said as she walked to the kitchen to carry over the pot of stew.
George made a face but obligingly pushed a chair from the corner of the dining room over to the edge of the table next to his twin.
"Who's he?" Ron asked.
"Ron," Charlie admonished under his breath.
Mrs. Weasley set down the pot in the middle of the table and began ladling portions into bowls. "I'll explain in a moment," she said.
Ginny could hardly pay attention to what was on her plate. She had a seat directly across from the boy. She knew it was impolite to stare, but he represented such a puzzle, such a mystery, that she couldn't help herself. She didn't think she'd ever been more curious about anything else before.
Mrs. Weasley finally sat and Mr. Weasley cleared his throat.
"This is Draco," he said, putting his hand on the back of the boy's chair. "He's going to be staying with us from now on."
"Why?" Ginny said loudly, unable to help herself.
"He's going to help with our livestock," Mr. Weasley continued.
"Where's he going to sleep?" Ron asked.
Mr. Weasley exchanged glances with his wife. "We haven't figured that out yet."
"I'm not sharing!" Ron exclaimed.
"Ron," Mrs. Weasley chided. "Be polite."
Draco had his head bowed, to avoid the stares, Ginny thought. She wished she could see his face.
"Draco what?" Fred asked.
"That's enough questions for now," said Bill suddenly, and Ginny saw he was exchanging meaningful looks with his father.
Dinner passed in silence.
"I don't get it," Ginny objected as she was tucked into bed later that night. "Why do we have to take care of him? Doesn't he have aunties and uncles?"
"Don't worry," Charlie said, smoothing her hair. "You'll understand when you're older."
Ginny pouted as he kissed her forehead. "'When you're older…'" she mimicked. "'You're too young…' Someday I'm going to be as old as you…and then I'll know everything."
Charlie smiled. "That's right," he said, tweaking her nose. "Then you'll know everything." He started for the door.
"And I'll beat you all in Quidditch!" she cried before he could leave. Charlie let out a guffaw and shut the door behind him.