Chapter One - A Feast

A feast was being prepared at The Burrow. And no one seemed more aware of its reason than fifteen year old Rose Weasley. The house was alive with energy. Grandma Molly was waving her wand frantically at the cooker which had become overfilled with pots and pans. The table was already groaning under the pressure of the piles of food and Rose's mother and aunts were carefully balancing another tray of baked potatoes above a tureen of gravy. Her father, grandfather and uncles were in the garden attempting to hoist up a large pergola in the strong summer breeze and the large number of teenagers that had filled the small house on the last day of the summer holidays were scrambling about in all directions, helping with the cooking, or the cleaning, or avoiding housework whenever possible.

From the living room Rose watched Hugo and Albus helping Teddy with the de-gnoming. From what she could tell, it wasn't going well. This thought was bolstered as Albus picked up a particularly stubborn gnome, spinning it over his head. He let go, aiming the gnome over the fence, but it clung to his hand, refusing to let go, and instead Rose's favourite cousin fell to the ground, the gnome sitting comfortable - albeit slightly dazed - above his head.

Rose let herself release a small giggle before turning to the kitchen, where Victoire was showing Lily a new spell she'd read about to curl her hair. The younger girl was laughing brightly and removing the plait from her hair to give her cousin better access for the spell. Dominique and and Molly were just climbing the stairs out of sight, giggling about something, and Rose stepped to follow them. They were just entering the room the girls were sharing, and Rose could see through the door Lucy and Roxanne, who were playing wizard's chess on the bedspread. For a moment, she considered telling them they should be helping, but shrugged it off.

She climbed higher, to the boys level. Louis and Fred were leaning against the wall, hands in their pockets as if it was what they did on every day that Rose walked past. She eyed them but they only grinned at her, clearly hiding something. 'Did your dad sneak you some more extendable ears or something, Fred?' she asked, but the pair just shook their heads, staying silent. She shook her head and continued upwards.

On the next floor she found James and her uncle Harry, talking quietly between themselves. When Rose reached them, they paused, glancing at her for a beat before smiling and patting her on the shoulder, heading back downstairs.

She had reached the top of the rickety house. Her eyes scanned the landing, pausing on the thin string that hung from the ceiling, and she grasped it in both hands, pulling it down. The ghoul was probably up here hiding, but there was something she needed to retrieve before the feast really began and she forgot. She climbed the small staircase, ducking her head and entered the attic.

It was dustier than she last remembered, the roughly stacked boxes blowing off clouds as she stepped past them. What she was looking for would be right at the back, where she'd hidden it at the start of the summer. Her eyes scanned the boxes and bags, looking for the small sheet of parchment. It was conspicuous, she knew. She'd hidden it carefully so anyone who had come up here in search of an old pair of pajamas or one of the old brooms wouldn't find it by mistake.

'Aha!' she breathed aloud to herself. Her hands had grasped the thin piece of ratty brown parchment, pulling it loose where it had been trapped between two boxes. She coveted the prize between her fingers, lingering slightly before stepping backwards and slipping quickly down the steps onto the landing again.

She was just about to turn around and head down the landing when a voice stopped her. 'What you got there, Rosie?' It was James, his eyes searching her hands.

'Just a bit of old parchment. I ran out and thought I'd check the attic.'

'You hate the old ghoul, Rosie.'

'I really need to take these notes,' she said quickly, trying to press past her cousin. He caught her upper arm in a tight grip.

'Don't lie to Jamie, cuz.'

Rose bit her lip and shoved the piece of parchment into her pocket out of sight. 'Okay,' she said slowly. 'The parchments a lie. I was looking to see if Uncle George had left anything up there. Fred and Louis are up to something and I was trying to foil there plans before our dinner ended up painted onto the side of the house. Okay?'

James nodded, seeming to believe her and he released her arm. 'Anything?' he asked.

She shook her head. 'All clear.'

'That's my cuz,' he smiled. 'The little detective.'

If only you knew.

The table had been taken outside and extended, and Rose's mother and Aunt Ginny had spread the food out. As they sat, Grandma Molly grinned, clapping her hands once. 'It's the last day of the summer, and I know all you kids will have a huge feast ahead of you tomorrow, but I couldn't help spoiling you tonight.' She motioned to the spread in front of them. 'So dig in!'

Rose reached for a cob of corn that rested in front of her, pulling it on to her plate. Beside her was her father, who pulled it out of her hands with a grin. 'Thanks, Rose,' he said, placing it on his plate. She rolled her eyes but reached for another.

'Can you pass ze peas, please, Lou?' Aunt Fleur asked, and her son passed her the bowl.

Glancing around the crowded table, Rose had to admit that all any passerby would see was a flame of red. It seemed that if you were a Weasley descendent, you were almost destined to have the bright red hair. She brushed a strand of her own vibrant hair behind her ear and smiled. This was family.

'So, has everyone packed?'

There was a collective groan from the younger inhabitants of the table.

'Don't tell me!' Louis groaned. 'I was hoping to avoid it until mum had to do it for me.' Fleur glared at him, but he didn't seem to notice and instead took another bite of his potato.

'I haven't started either,' said Hugo, leaning back in his chair. 'Rose'll pack for me, won't you Rosie?'

Rose scowled, but smiled at her mother, who was shaking her head when Hugo wasn't looking.

'Want to pack for me too, Rosie?' he father asked, nudging her shoulder and she shook her head, taking a slice of roast beef of the platter in front of her.

'So, we heard Molly is head girl,' Teddy said, twining his fingers into Victoire's and leaning against her shoulder lovingly. 'Why aren't you Head Boy, Fred?'

The red-head groaned, leaning his head against the back of his chair. 'Don't talk to me about any kind of authority. I was the worse prefect in the history of prefects.'

Uncle George grinned at him. 'What did I say, son? Being a prefect is overrated.'

'You never were a prefect, dad.'

'Exactly. You can't have fun when you're a prefect. You're Uncle Percy proved that fact.'

Uncle Percy himself bristled obviously, but only motioned for his wife to pass him the butter and refused to comment.

'Don't pick on Percy,' Bill said. 'He's a nutter, but he's okay as far as brothers go. He's good to pick on.'

George nodded, relenting and leaned back in his chair, patting his stomach. 'You sure are, Perce. You sure are.'

Rose smiled, admiring the relaxed atmosphere of her family. When she was at Hogwarts - of which she would be entering her fifth year the very next day - she missed these moments the most. Hogwarts had bustle and life and excitement, but it never felt quite as comfortable and serene as when she was with her family.

'How are you doing there, Rose?' her father asked her. She nodded.

'I'm fine, Dad.'

'Are you all set for school?'

'Yeah, Dad.'

He shot her a loving smile and she returned it. 'Wish I could be coming with you,' he said. 'I'd love to get out of the office for a while. And I'm sure the giant squid would just love it if I came to visit.'

Rose laughed, but shook her head. 'Don't be silly, Dad. You love your job, and there is no way you would be leaving mum behind.'

Her father rolled his eyes. 'Fine. But I'm sure if I asked, your mum would come with me. She'd love to keep an eye on you and Hugo.'

'I'm sure she would.'