Wind slammed against the weathered, wood siding of a curiously tall and crooked house. Rain poured unceremoniously from the sky, adding to the overall effect. The sign which had been placed on the cluttered front lawn of this house read "The Burrow."

A plump, merry woman bustled about a small, and equally cluttered, kitchen. With a wave of her wand she had a fire dancing in the corner, a pot of water boiling over its flames, and dirty dishes washing themselves in the sink on the opposite end of the room. Mrs. Weasley hummed to herself happily as she continued her work. Pleased, throughout her efforts, to be providing her beloved family with another home-cooked meal.

"Mum, has the post arrived?" a deep, timid voice sounded from the kitchen's entrance. The owner of the voice eyed his mother's work with slight amusement, his red hair falling into his eyes. It was the same red hair that all nine Weasley's had in common. Each in a different shade, thankfully.

Mrs. Weasley turned around and smiled brightly at her son. "Oh, yes. It's right over there on the table, dear."

Muttering a quiet, "thanks," the man strode over to the table. His figure was as ungraceful as ever, being that Ron Weasley had never grown into his awkward height.

He had just settled into a chair and was picking up a small envelope that was addressed specifically to him, when a young woman danced into the room.

"Good afternoon, Mum. Ron," she smiled, plopping herself into a chair opposite her brother.

"Ginny! What a pleasure!" Two identical men exclaimed, skidding to a stop in front of the table. One of the twins who had spoken uncharacteristically wrapped an arm around Ginny's shoulders.

She attempted to free herself from his grasp.

"C'mon George, get off!"

The opposite twin looked on with wide eyes while shaking his head. "Ginny! Are you rejecting our fine examples of brotherly love? What is this family coming to?!" Always one for a dramatic scene, Fred placed the back of his hand to his forehead and sighed deeply.

"Sod off," Ron muttered, glancing quickly up as his sister as she struggled with their two brothers, before looking back at the letter in his hands. With a slight frown he took in the familiar, neat scrawl that his name had been written out in. There were gently swiped letters right in the center of the envelope in flawless script. Biting his lip nervously, he sighed . . . already knowing who had written it.

"Fred, do sit down. That goes for you too, George," Mrs. Weasley demanded, pointing sternly and directing her sons into the two nearest chairs at the table.

Ginny glanced from twin to twin -a habit that she had adapted at quite a young age- taking in their differences. It was a welcomed challenge to try and piece together the puzzle that they presented every time they did one of their natural twin acts. Sometimes she felt that they were both too alike for their own good. That it wasn't fair that two people were so perfectly identical to one another. Doesn't a person need their own identity?

Even as she thought this, however, she would begin to remember that, although Fred and George appeared appallingly similar, in reality they were far from exact replicas. Both shared the same blue eyes, but while Fred had green sparkling in the surface of his, George had brown. A rich brown that, instead of dulling his eyes, seemed to make them just-that-much more brilliant.

The twins, even though they were pranksters, shared an intimidating intelligence level. Both achieved top grades, without the slightest bit of effort, while attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Though some people mistook their pranks as stupidity, anyone who truly knew them recognized each prank's genius. They were all extremely well thought-out and planned down to the last, and most tiny, of details.

When it came to their personalities, George seemed to be the most caring of the pair. He was a sweetheart when he took the time out to allow anyone to see that side of him. Ginny had grown to treasure his kindness over the years. She would always remember the times when she was younger and would get hurt, when George would be by her side constantly until he was assured that she would be okay. Fred, on the other hand, was a tad rougher around the edges. Sure, he could be a big softy at times, but he seemed to really fear showing too much of himself to another person other than George. It was as if he thought that the world would slowly wear at him until there was nothing left, if, by chance, he put his guard down long enough.

With a slight sigh, Ginny turned her gaze away from Fred and George, not even mildly interested in their current banter as her thoughts continued to wander. Both were very outspoken, especially around each other. At times it was almost maddening. Trying to keep up with them when they really latched onto a discussion topic was as easy as making a Slytherin apologize.

Ginny's eyes fell onto Ron, the brother who was closest to her age. Though older and not-so-much wiser, his eyes still registered the same childish gleam that they had held all through his childhood. It was sad to think of how such innocent eyes had seen so many horrible things in his short life.

Ron tilted his head up and stretched from his previous position of hunching over the letter as he read with an air of disbelief. His eyes seemed to glaze over, in some sort of daze, as he appeared to look directly through his only sister. His mouth was ajar and his eyebrows were scrunched together.

"Close your mouth, Ronnie, we wouldn't want your face to freeze up like that," George chuckled.

"You're already borderline hideous, let's not push it," Fred said, smiling teasingly.

Mrs. Weasley came over to her children and placed a hand on her hip, staring at Ron with concern. Ginny, also having realized that Ron seemed to be slightly ill, stared at him.

"What's the matter, Ron?" she asked softly.

Her only answer was a unrecognizable sound from the back of his throat.

"Poor little Ronnie. Cat got your tongue?" Fred asked.

"Sod off."

George laughed, "Ah, our precious brother has rediscovered his vocabulary."

"Not a very vast one. Is it, George?"

"Definitely not, Fred."

The twins' conversation seemed to fade from the entire kitchen as Ron mumbled, "Hermione's back."

All eyes were on his. Fred and George's mouths were open in an similar expression as Ron's had been earlier. Ginny stared at him before jumping to her feet in excitement, "That's wonderful! Aren't you happy? Merlin, I don't think any one of us has seen her since-"

"-the last day of their seventh year," George finished.

Mrs. Weasley was bursting with joy. "Hermione's come back? Heavens, how fantastic! Perhaps Harry will stop over when she comes. That is, unless they have already seen each other again?" She glanced at Ron questioningly.

"In the letter she said that they had gone out to lunch in Diagon Alley just yesterday," Ron answered as his voice calmed down from its earlier squeaks. The disbelief about the whole situation slowly eased up.

Fred and George both seemed to be staring off into space, lost in their own thoughts. Ginny, however, was much to excited to sit there and do nothing, "When's she coming?"

"Tomorrow," Ron said.

"What time?"

"She'll be here around noon."

"Is she excited?"

"She sounded excited."

"Why did she leave to begin with?" George asked, confusion causing his eyebrows to furrow and his lips to turn down in the corners.

The only answer he got was unabashed silence.

AN: Tell me what you thought!