"The Burrow!" said Harry clearly. The familiar spinning sensation came, he held five-year-old Rose close, and then stepped out of the emerald green flames and into a lecture.

"But Mum, we didn't hurt them!"

"Yeah, it was just a bit of fun!"

"We was only trying to-"

"I don't care what you were only trying to do, Jason Eli Johnson! You three stole your cousins' wands, did magic underage and unsupervised, and I don't even want to think about what those muggle children are telling their parents! And it was in front of your brothers! Now what kind of an example are you setting for them?"

"We were only borrowing the wands," muttered one.

"And it wasn't just us, neither," one of the identical redheads said sulkily.

"Yeah, Gwen and Shawn-"

"I'm not their mother, Joshua, but I am yours. Now I want you all to go to your cousins who's wands you took and tell them-" a groan escaped one of the boys at this point, and Ginny paused to give him a stern look, "- tell them that you are to do something for them, whatever they decide. And don't think that's all you'll be getting for this, either."

"Don't look so down, guys. My dad had me doing slave labor for months after I gave that muggle farmer's pig wings and sent it flying over the village." Elanor was straight-faced as she hefted her trunk off of the hearth.

"Elanor," Harry raised an eyebrow at his eleven-year-old daughter, and she winked back.

"Okay, it was dish duty for three weeks. Same difference. Are Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione here yet, Aunt Ginny?" Ginny replied that they were, and leaving the room she called back over her shoulder, "Bye, Dad, I'm off to find Andrew!"

"Bye, honey," Harry was just turning to Ginny as her boys, stumping out of the room, were recalled by another voice from the grate.

"Hey Aunt Ginny, where's Jennifer?" James asked, stepping out of the fireplace and lugging his trunk behind him. At thirteen James was five six and stick thin in a gawky, storklike way. He had his father's bright green eyes and black hair, though his lay politely as it was supposed.

Turning back, the triplets' looks of sullenness instantly fell away to be replaced by wicked grins.

"Oh Jennifer!" yelled Joseph in singsong fashion through the door opening onto the rest of the house.

"Your boyfriend's here!" piped in Jason at the top of his lungs.

"He's asking for you!" added Joshua. And then they raced for the door to the outside as a red-haired girl of thirteen burst through the doorway.

"Mum!" she implored Ginny, "Can't you make them stop? He's not my boyfriend, he's-"

"Hullo, Jen," James put in pleasantly.

"Oh, hello James. Mum, isn't there anything-"

"I'm sorry, dear. I'll have a talk with them later." As the two children turned to leave, a small lisping voice started up from behind Harry.

"James and Jennifew, sittin' in a twee! K-S-S-S-N-I-G! Fiwst-"

"Dad!" yelled James.

"Dallin!" said Harry in a warning voice, trying not to laugh as he looked down into his redheaded seven-year-old's bright green eyes. "Now you know better than that!"

"Sowwy, Daddy," he apologized sincerely.

"It's okay," he said, setting Rose down. "Are Rosie and Benjamin here yet?" he questioned Ginny. She nodded yes. "Why don't you two go see if you can find Byrant and Kaitlin?"

"Okay, Dad," replied Dallin, and taking little Rose's hand, he led her out of the room.

"So how are you doing, Ginny?" Harry asked. She gave a deep sigh. "These boys are running me ragged. Jennifer was never this difficult!" Harry laughed. "That was what it was like with Anne. Lily and Rosie were so easy to deal with, it was a shock to find out most children aren't that way." They sat at the kitchen table. "So what did those three do this time?"

Shaking her head, she went on with the story. "They, Shawn, and Gwen 'borrowed' some of their older cousin's wands and went out into the woods. Who knows what they were planning - but anyways, they found-"

An auburn-haired fifteen-year-old seemed to explode from the fireplace, ranting as she came at Harry's wife Ella, who appeared right behind her with a bawling two-year-old Emily in tow. "Why can't I just apparate? You know I know how to safely! I helped Lily study for her license. Those age limits are more for maturity anyhow. Just because I'm under age doesn't mean I-"

"Hello Anne," interrupted Ginny gaily.

"Aunt Ginny!" she cried, her frustration at being disallowed to apparate vanishing in her joy. She rushed over to give Ginny a quick hug, all the while talking a mile a minute as Harry offered a very hassled looking Ella a chair.

"How are you doing Aunt Ginny? Have your boys blown anything up yet? At least the kitchen's still standing! Is Lily here yet? What about-" here she caught herself quickly, "Er, Uncle Charlie?" Laughing at the assault of words, Ginny replied, "No, Lily hasn't arrived yet that I know of. Uncle Charlie has-" Anne's deep brown eyes, so like her mother's, rose sparkling at this "-but a certain son of his is visiting a friend and won't get here 'til tomorrow-" those eyes fell again at this. Harry sighed inwardly as Anne seated herself at the table. Charlie's adoptive son Jordan was two years older than Anne, and for all that they had grown up like cousins Anne had had a running crush on him for the last three years. It didn't help her case that, for all that the rest of the boys at school seemed to be watching his fiery daughter- Harry frowned- Jordan seemed oblivious. Not that she was obvious; Anne never really treated him any different from the rest of her many 'cousins'. And, in all truth, this was just fine as far as Harry was concerned. But still- with a start, Harry realized that he'd been totally ignoring the conversation at hand. Ginny was speaking.

"-these muggle children they found had three pet dogs with them, and the five of them levitated the dogs, flying them around the children's heads- who knows what would have happened if Alicia and Allissan hadn't seen the dogs above the trees and gone to investigate!" Ginny looked torn between mirth and exasperation over the incident, but Anne was positively gleeful.

"Oh, Filch'll have his hands full with those five next year! And they're only ten! Who taught them levitation?"

"Just watching," replied Ginny half proudly, "They learn so quickly, now if only they'd do something besides making things fly illegally."

"What about your little ones?" asked Ella. "I heard they had the chicken pox?"

"Yes," she replied, "That's over, thankfully. Fred and George would have hated to miss the reunion. They've been asking me every day for the past three weeks if it was time to come yet."

Without warning, eighteen-year-old Lily and her fiancé Thomas Whittaker apparated into the kitchen. With something like a muffled scream of delight, Anne leapt from her place at the table to greet her exuberantly. Thomas even got a quick hug. Anne had always hero-worshipped her big sister, and had taken it hard when a great deal of Lily's time was suddenly focused on her soon-to-be-husband rather than her little sister. At first Anne had been resentful of the soft-spoken young man, but after a talk with Lily she was trying her best to accept him. It also helped that Anne was to be Lily's "best maid" as she called it. Lily laughingly responded to the tide of energy and verbal overload flowing from the younger girl, her kind blue eyes, dark hair and quiet manner somehow both contrasting and complimenting her sister's wild ways. At last Anne paused for a breath, and Lily took the moment to greet her parents. She truly was grown now, Harry noted wistfully. Graduated from Hogwarts, engaged (what a shock that had been), and about to start the arduous training beyond secondary school required for qualification as a mediwizard; true to her nature, Lily wanted to give something back to the profession that had brought her through the difficult years of her childhood.

Little Dallin came running into the room breathing hard, having apparently been designated message bearer by one of his older siblings. "Quidditch!" he yelled, marching up to Anne and taking her hand, "Dey need you wight now, dey need anoda keepa, an' if you don' come, dey'w have to wet Shawn pway keepa, an' he's howwible!" The little boy was now tugging with all his strength on his sister's hand, trying unsuccessfully to move her toward the door.

"Dallin, how do you think Shawn would feel if he heard you say that?" his mother reprimanded softly, working hard to keep a straight face at his desperate manner. He looked abashed at this thought, glanced down at his feet. "I'm sowwy- but Anne needs to come wight now!" and he burst into tears.

"Okay, okay, it's alright!" the offending sister said, scooping the child up, "And Shawn's not all that bad, he just needs more experience. He's only ten, after all." "Gwen's onwy ten, and dey want hem to pway," Dallin said, the tears forgotten on his cheeks. "Well- she's a special case," Anne marched to the door, carrying him over her shoulder. She turned back to Lily before exiting, but Lily waved her on with a quick "We'll have time to talk, we'll be here the whole week." The door swung back into place behind her.