DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, The Sound Of Music, The Dictionary, The Hanging Tree, I Know A Song, nor The Wicked Witch Is Dead. I also don't own the original product of any miscellaneous references in here.

Finally, I am not the party responsible if anyone loses their sanity because of this fic.

Once upon a time, everything was perfectly fine and dandy at the Burrow. Back when there were seven kids, two adults, and quite possibly the chance of friends and fiancés dropping in to bid hello . . .

At least, until the kids had kids, of course.

"The HILLLLLSSSS are ALLIIIVVVE! With the SOUND of MU-UUSICC—"

"Would you shut your mouth for once?" Victoire asked, although not very politely.

"Relax, Vic," Dominique shrugged it off. "He's just trying to find his true calling."

"If being a prat is his true calling, then so be it," Victoire snapped. Louis had found that he had an obsession with Muggle music, so Fleur's main job for the two girls was to make sure he didn't sing any Celestina Warbeck.

"The SONGS they have SUNNNNGGG! For a THOUSAND YEAAARRRRSSS!"

"You know," Dominique stated bluntly. "I ought to be wondering what our parents were thinking, keeping us at the Burrow without supervision."

Victoire rolled her eyes. "I told you," she said. "Dad thought we could handle it. I'm almost out of Hogwarts, after all."

"Yes, yes, yes," Dominique recalled. "But I specifically thought that a rule was that we got Louis to can it, right?"

"It's fine, Dom," Victoire replied. "He needs to join a rock band."

Dominique nodded in agreement, until she saw the very people coming in the door.

"Ah," she said. "The Squib and the Lunatic. You know, it's a bit surprising that you managed to get the nerve to come here, eh?"

"Can it," Molly spat. "We ain't much different than the rest of ya."

"Oh, hello!" Lucy greeted. "I suppose you haven't seen a Heliopath, have you? They are quite fearsome creatures, when they put their mind to it . . ."

Dominique ignored the younger girl's comment, focusing on Molly. "How the hell did you pass English?"

"English," Lucy broke in. "Noun. The language of England, widely used in many varieties around the world."

"That's . . ." Victoire struggled to find the words for what she would respond. "Nice and all, but I really have to get going. Jack's called for a practise."

"Again?" Dominique asked in amazement. "Please don't say that you're gonna leave me with these nerds for the next half hour. Uncle George hasn't even owled yet!"

Molly was fuming. "Nerds? Who are you calling nerds, you little—"

"Arsehole," Lucy said. "Noun. A stupid, irritating, or contemptible person."

The room gaped at the Ravenclaw, who just quietly sat down to look closer into a book.

"Well," Dominique said. "That . . ."

"Happened," Molly finished. The two girls realised what they had done after a few moments, and glared at each other.

"AARRRREE YOUUU? AARRRRRRREEE YOUUUU? COMING to the TRRREEEE?"

"Where a dead Louis called out," Dominique muttered. "For his body to bleed."

"Morbid," Lucy interrupted this beautiful exchange. "Adjective. Characterized by or appealing to an abnormal and unhealthy interest in disturbing and unpleasant subjects, especially death and disease."

"Intriguing," Victoire commentated. "Well, must get going."

And so she scurried off.

"OH, COME ON!" Dominique screeched.

"Well," Molly said. "You've learned a lesson today, haven't you."

"Come off it," Dominique grumbled. "You little piece of shite."

Molly raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe cursing was justified."

"Neither was your presence," Dominique snarled. "You filthy little scumblood."

"Apologies," Lucy stated. "But I could not locate such a word."

Molly attempted to defend herself. "Our parents foughtagainst this rubbish, Damminique."

They were interrupted by a crash.

"LET'S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!"

The Weasleys looked behind them to see two others . . .

It was . . .

Fred and Roxanne!

"Oi!" The latter called. "You have any Galleons?"

"You're the richest out of everyone here!" Molly groaned.

"Says the girl that'll never pick up a wand in her life."

The two engaged in an intense staring competition. One that was life or death.

Music blasted over the house, as Louis' voice became evident to all who heard it.

"I KNOW A SONG THAT GETS ON EVERYBODY'S NERVE! EVERYBODY'S NERVE, EVERYBODY'S NERVE! I KNOW A SONG THAT GETS ON EVERYBODY'S NERVE, AND THIS IS HOW IT GOEEESSSSSS!"

James laughed. "Brilliant piece of art, mate! But this is more impressive!"

He then transformed into a stag.

And then back again.

"Whoa!" Roxanne grinned. "Let me try!"

"Actually," James smirked as he said this. "It will not work for you. For I am a descendant of Godric Gryffindor, Dumbledore, The Weird Sisters, The Black Family, the Fawleys, the Bones Family, Helga Hufflepuff, Cornelius Fudge, Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin, Draco Malfoy, and the goblins!"

"Brilliant," Fred stated. He then turned to the remainder of the party. "What do you say about blowing fucking everything up and calling it a night?"

"No," Lucy stated, but of course she had to keep going. "Exclamation. Used to give a negative response."

The girls had kept glaring at one another.

"Now, Albus," Rose said (she had appeared out of nowhere, but it wasn't as if anybody cared. "It is my job, as Rose Mary Notsue Demetria Starsky Granger-Weasley, to give you the proper instructions of how to use necromancy to bring Voldemort back from the dead."

"The hell?" Albus asked, completely in disbelief. "Why would we want to do that? And your name isn't that. You told me it last year."

"Guess what, guess what, guess what!" Lily squealed. "I won the Gryffindor House cup for ninety years in a row! I guess this means that I get to be recognized for special services, doesn't it?!"

"You aren't even old enough for Hogwarts!" Albus protested.

"Exactly, Albus," Lucy chimed in. "But, you see, this is fanfiction. And in fanfiction, the author doesn't care about your wishes. Why, what's cared about is nothing!"

"Is-Is Hugo doing bloody magic with Rose's wand?"

Lily turned to her brother. "He's been a professional for years now."

"Wait, what?" Albus asked.

"Apologies, Al," James said. "But you are acting sane. Oh well. I guess I have to knock you out."

James then slammed his own brother against the wall, but that was when Molly cried out in pain. For Dominique had screamed, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

And so she died.

"Yes!" Dominique smiled, a maniacal grin forming. "The world has become ridden if the Squib!"

Albus had already been knocked out, but Louis decided to sing a song in celebration.

"DING DONG THE SQUIB IS DEAD! WHICH SQUIB? THE MOLLY SQUIB! DING DONG, THE MOLLY SQUIB IS DEADDDDDDD!"

Hours later, Albus awoke on the side of the road, where Lucy, Rose, James, and Roxanne were walking.

"Wait, what are we doing on the side of the road?!" Albus demanded.

Roxanne turned to him. "Well, you see. Lily was hired by Mcgonagall to become Quidditch Captain. Snape Killed Hugo because Hugo was better than Dumbledore at that point. Dominique fell in love with Sirius' motorbike because she found her calling. Fred decided to become a serial killer and he's now an outlaw on the run. McGonagall realised she enjoyed Divination, so she ran off into the woods never to be seen again. James knocked you out and found some red sticks in a mine shaft. Victoire fell off a cliff because she was being chased by guinea pigs. Oh, and J. K. Rowling was killed by a squad of vicious Blast-Ended Skrewts, so the canon plot is no more!"

"Where's Teddy? Shouldn't he be here?" Rose demanded, although it came out rather annoyingly. "I want to figure out if we can plug some memories into his head and graphically explain how his parents died."

"Siberia," Lucy stated. "He said he likes it cold."

"So, what are we doing?" Albus asked once more.

Roxanne once again was the one to explain. "Well, turns out that a batty old woman across the street called the cops on us, and turns out they don't exactly like us killing people. I can't imagine why. Anyways, Louis got kidnapped about at that time, and they couldn't prove it wasn't us. So, now we're effing Ministry fugitives. All in good fun, yeh?"

"No, not in good fun—James, what are you doing?!" Albus asked, panicking.

James was lighting the red sticks on fire, but that didn't turn out to be a good idea. For suddenly, a loud bang became present.

"Dynamite." Lucy said as it detonated. "Noun. A high explosive consisting of nitroglycerine mixed with an absorbent material and typically molded into sticks."

A/N: Yep. I just wrote that.

No, this isn't how I picture the next generation. I just liked the idea.

For some reason.

So, what did you all think of this?