The family made plans to meet at the Burrow before the trial, before they travelled to the Ministry. Harry, Ginny and Arthur had already travelled there early, to be prepared. This trial was to be unlike anything the ministry had seen in her lifetime. The jury consisted of around two hundred witches, wizards and squibs. The minister of Magic himself, Kingsley Shacklebolt, was to conduct the trial. The Head of Magical law enforcement- Shacklebolt's second in command- was to relay all decisions through the huge jury and a decision to be made. This was then to be passed back through to the Prime Minister, who, as leader of the country, would have the final say.

Hermione was not sure she agreed with this arrangement but as head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures but because of her relationship with Harry she, as well as Arthur, Percy and Fleur, had all been omitted from the trial. She did know however that Shacklebolt had been a member of the Order, that he had fought alongside Hermione for a common goal. He had the right views, the same visions as Hermione on rebuilding the ministry, on making the world a better place.

She had to remember it didn't all come down to the judge. This case was going to be heavily influenced by the jury, and they could only pray that the wizarding public had the same views as the Weasley family. Back when Harry was born they had accepted them as their hero, 'the boy who lived' was the person kids looked up to, the person they owed their lives. She could only pray they remembered that.

Molly was in tatters when they arrived, she was cleaning vigorously- by hand. Ron's grip tightened on her hand as they stood in the doorway. Hermione remembered this version of Molly, the Molly who had just lost a son. She knew that in Molly's eyes Harry was more than son-in-law and that she was more than a daughter-in-law. Everyone the Weasley's welcomed into their house was instantly part of their family. Molly had cried as much over Harry coming home safe from the war as she was her six blood children. Harry was just another son, Molly knew Lily would have wanted that; Harry knew that Molly was the best maternal figure he could have wanted other than his blood parents.

George was sitting at the kitchen table, being angrily batted by a cloth which was trying to clean it. His head was in his hands. Seeing George like this Ron swallowed hard, his grip tightening again. George suddenly slammed a fist on the table, shoving the cloth to the floor. His white shirt had a sodden patch where the cloth had been. George stood. There were tears in his eyes.

"This is so bloody stupid!" He yelled,

"George, Language," his mother reprimanded before seeing her son's expression and biting her lip.

"They're going to call him guilty! They'll have Fred dead for nothing! Do they know how it feels?" George slapped his chest, "How it feels in here!" he spun on his heel clumsily and stormed off up the stairs, two at a time.

Molly turned to look at Hermione and her Husband standing in the doorway, she bit her lip harder, her teeth sinking in to try and prevent her glazed eyes from dripping onto her made-up face. Hermione quickly left Ron's side and went to offer a hug to her mother-in-law. Molly was more than happy to wrap her arms around Hermione, embracing her tightly while the tears, sobs and sniffles voiced their opinions.

Ron crossed the floor behind them and followed his elder brother up the stairs and, after a moment or two, Molly removed her face from Hermione's shoulder and offered her a watery smile and a nod.

"It's ok dear, just George, George is finding things a little tough just now." Hermione nodded, patting her mother-in-law on the arm. At that moment, Percy entered the kitchen, followed by Bill and Fleur carrying Victoire. Charlie hadn't been able to get home in time for the trial. The boys were both wearing dress robes, Percy's were chestnut and Bill's a very deep teal colour. Fleur wore dress robes also but hers were not the heavy material that most British robes were, they were silky and thin, with frilly sleeves- bit like French underwear.

Hermione suddenly felt a little awkward, she only owned one set of dress robes- which were black, and her next closest thing was her wedding dress. No, she wore a blouse and pencil skirt- a garment Ron had found great pleasure in when she first started to work. She thought she was dressed appropriately for a trial but her clothes practically screamed muggleborn.

It was then she made a realisation- Molly wasn't wearing dress robes, she was dressed in a patchwork dress with half-length sleeves that Hermione knew Molly used for cleaning. Molly must have caught Hermione's look because she smiled and shook her head.

"I'm not going dear. I'm looking after Victoire, and George. We decided, George and I, that there was too much risk." Molly stopped there. They all knew what Molly was talking about. In the wizarding world, it was called Curseshock, but that was a wide and old-fashioned term. It was PTSD; Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. George hadn't coped well since he had lost his twin, Fred had been everything- as identical twins often are to each other.

A voice from the staircase brought Hermione from her thoughts.

"Angelina's coming over- to keep me company." When all he received was a blank look from Hermione and Fleur he rolled his eyes,

"Angelina Johnson, chaser, Gyffindor quidditch team- a friend from school."

Hermione nodded, she did remember Angelina, although she could have sworn she dated Fred, perhaps it was in losing Fred that they had become friends. Hermione couldn't help but smile a little, if that was the case then she had read enough romance novels to know what happened next.