AN: Please review! Or I won't update :(

The Mudbloods Daughter II: The Kings are Back!

Charissa was sure, that if she wasn't nearly six months pregnant, she would be bouncing by now. Fleur was watching her, a smile on her face, as Charissa eagerly paced the living room of the Burrow. A lot of people didn't understand the friendship that Fleur and Charissa had. It confused most of them really, but the main matter of the fact was that Charissa had gone to Beauxbaxtons for most of her schooling years, and Fleur had been one of her closest friends then and still remained it. When most people asked why Charissa didn't have the same accent as Fleur, Charissa would just smile mysteriously, and look away.

"Charissa, you 'ave to zit down. It iz no good to work up an excitement. Bill will be back soon," Fleur stated, and Charissa just beamed even brighter, sitting down and tapping her foot giddily.

"Oh Fleur, zees is ze best moment, when he just comes home," Charissa said, a tidbit of her french accent slipping through, as it always did when she got really excited and let it slip. Fleur quirked an eyebrow and laughed lightly, her voice like bells. Charissa giggled, and stood again, pacing once more. "Oh, I just can't wait Fleur! I haven't seen him in three months! It's like an eternity!"

"Oh, Charissa, 'e will be 'ere soon. Calm down," Fleur chastised, and Charissa sighed dreamily, before sitting down on the couch, her eyes a hazy blue colour. Pansy walked into the room, feeling her way along the furniture with a soft smile on her face. When she was sure she had found a seat, she carefully sat down. Her milky white eyes stared blankly into space.

"Is she still panicking? Or has she stopped yet?" Pansy said, her tone joking, and Fleur laughed. 'She stopped' Fleur told Pansy, before standing and waved her wand over the dirty cups the woman had drank tea in, before directing them into the kitchen, when Molly was baking a cake, flour on her red cheeks.

"Oh, Fleur dear, please get the post from Piggy, he's been tapping the window for ten minutes now, and I'm busy," Molly said, and Fleur nodded, going over to the window and letting the fat owl through it, who then plopped unceremoniously onto the floor, panting. Molly rolled her eyes, laughing with a good nature about her. Fleur lifted the black letter from the tired owls beak, and then frowned. Molly noticed.

"What is it, dear?" she asked, wiping her hands on a tea towel, and walking over to her, a concerned look on her face. Fleur handed her the letter, and Molly saw that it had the official Ministry seal on it. Her kind, aged eyes widened, before she sat down. "Oh dear..." she whispered, before she opened it slowly. Her hands trembled, as she pulled the letter from the envelope, and her eyes flickered over the parchment, before her eyes began to fill with tears.

"Molly?" Charissa's voice asked, worried, from the doorway. Molly quickly stuffed the letter in her apron's pockets, and smiled at Charissa, who looked at her with fearful purple eyes. "Molly? What's going on? What did you just put in your pocket?" she questioned, walking towards the older woman. Molly stood, and ushered her out of the kitchen.

"Nothing, dear, nothing. Now you go and sit down, it's not good for you to be on your feet," Molly stated, and Charissa protested, until Molly gave her a look that only a mother could give. Pansy felt the waves of sadness emanating from Molly, and frowned, until Molly rushed from the room, closing the kitchen door behind her. She took the letter out of her pocket, and read it again, before sobbing.

"Molly! What eez wrong?" Fleur pleaded, rushing to Molly's side, and looking at her with big, blue eyes. "I 'ave never seen you like zis! Not since ze passing of Fred," Fleur said, throatily. Molly just sobbed harder, and Fleur picked up Molly's discarded letter from the table. As she read it, her own startled eyes widened, and she gasped. "Oh Molly! Zees is terrible! Why didn't you tell Charissa?"

Molly sniffed, and looked at Fleur, shaking her head. "Charissa... she's already lost so much... and she is pregnant... who knows what this could do to her," Molly whispered, and Fleur rolled her eyes, sighing.

"Molly! Your husband, 'e iz dead. You shouldn't 'ave to think of others at this time," Fleur said softly, and Molly looked at her stonily. Fleur pleaded with her, silently, and the sounds of Charissa squealing reached the kitchen. "Zat will be Charlie and Bill. Molly, you must tell them."

"I know, Fleur! I know! I just need a moment, dear, just a moment," Molly pleaded, and Fleur looked at her, narrowing her eyes, before nodding, and leaving the kitchen. Molly sighed, and took a deep breath, as tears filled her eyes and poured down her pale, puffy cheeks. She looked at the letter again, and reread it, as if affirming it to herself.

Dear Mrs Molly Weasley

It is with great regret that we inform you that at Nine fifty-one this morning, your husband, Arthur Weasley, son of Septimus and Cedrella Weasley, was attacked and killed by a group of Bloodhunters, on his was to a raid in the town of Surrey. Unfortunately, the anonymous tip off that his department received was in fact a trap, and he was the unfortunate victim of the Bloodhunters. We at the Ministry will miss him sorely, and we can only but dream of how much he will be missed by his family. Please accept our most sincerest of condolences, and the gift basket which should arrive withing two days, as our symbol of sympathy here at the Ministry in tribute of this great man.

Yours Sincerely,
Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic

The ink on the parchment began to run, as Molly's tears trickled down her cheeks and coated it with salty wetness. Soon, all the words were melded into a great black blob, and Molly crumpled up the letter, and the envelope, throwing it into the bin.

"That bitch Cissady better stay far away from me," Molly snarled, her eyes gleaming. "Or else I will kill her."

Padfoot and Narca-Jane sat opposite each other, in the pink frilly tackiness that was Madame Puddifoots. After half an hour, they had both run out of things to say, and gradually eased into a very awkward silence, that had Narca-Jane wishing she could just get out of there. Part of her felt as if she was on a date with her brother, or uncle or something, and honestly... he didn't have the same attracting appeal that Teddy had. Finally, Padfoot gave up, and looked at Narca-Jane apologetically.

"This isn't working put, is it?" he asked, a slightly humorous tone to his voice, and Narca-Jane smiled weakly, nodding. "Well, you can't say I didn't try. What was it, honestly?" he joked, and Narca-Jane laughed.

"I think it was the fact that I have spent my entire life hearing about Uncle Harry's 'brilliant god-father Sirius' that did it really. I mean, it's not that you aren't attractive, cause good lord you are, or that you're a bad kisser, cause holy mother of Mary you're brilliant at kissing, it's just this whole date thing? It's not working for me. You're just not..." she stopped herself, covering her mouth and looking at the table guiltily as she realised what she was away to say. Padfoot's lips quirked upwards.

"Go on, say it. I'm just not Teddy," he said, tipping his chair back onto two legs, and crossing his arms, a sly smirk on his handsome face, his black hair falling into his grey eyes. Narca-Jane rolled her eyes, but had to nod, agreeing. "Why are you two not together? I mean everyone can see you two still want each other." Sirius stated, and Narca-Jane looked at him, her eyes sad and slightly guilty. His chair fell back to it's four legs with a thud, and he gaped at her. "You two are together!"

"Shush! And no, we aren't! It's over now..." she protested, and Padfoot rose his eyebrows. "Okay, so for a little bit, we were still seeing each other. But it's over now. It has been for nearly three weeks."

"As opposed to the four months you've been broken up," Padfoot replied, and Narca-Jane stuck her tongue out at him. "Do want to just go? Cause this... it's weird," he stated, and Narca-Jane sighed thankfully, before nodding. "Great. Let's run for it," he stated, and Narca-Jane laughed, before looking around, and then nodding. The two made a break for it, and were almost out, when Narca-Jane's world spun. She gripped her head, and slowed, closing her eyes tightly.

Padfoot turned, just in time to see her crumple to the floor.