I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters from the series. Those all belong to J.K Rowling.
Enjoy!
It was a Christmas like any other at the Burrow. 5 year old Roxanne bounced up and down on her father George's knee. Her older brother Fred was sitting in the corner with James and Molly, no doubt planning some pranking attack on an ususpecting relative. Victoire and Teddy were snogging on the couch, much to the dismay of Victoire's father, Bill, who was being held back by his wife and Victoire's mother, Fleur. Albus and Rose were reading, Lily and Hugo were being held by Hermione and Ginny, and Ron and Harry were playing chess. Dominique, Louis, and Lucy were playing tag and running through and into various groups of Weasleys who were scattered around the room, talking, gossiping, and debating. Yes, a perfectly normal Christmas. All too soon, it would come to an end, because at that moment, a loud scream echoed across the small, thin walls of the Burrow.
Harry was screaming, clutching his forehead and doubled over with pain. All of the heads in the overcrowded living room turned to look at him; and he collapsed, breathing hard.
Numerous voices were heard across the room"Harry!" "Dad!" "What happened?" "What's wrong?" "Are you all right?"
They, at least the aldults voices, were cut off as everyone got a good look at Harry, whose hand was now covering his forehead and his eyes were wide with terror. At this point in time, the children were utterly confused, but the adult's faces were suddenly frozen in fear, for they knew what was about to happen, what was yet to come, what they spent most of their lives trying to forget was about to be forced back upon them.
Harry Potter then lifted his head and looked at his family, his expression warped with fear as he choked out;
"He's back."
And then everything went black.